This Is Us
by Lynnth2014
Summary: Sex, secrets, lies, jealousy, betrayal, drama all can be found on the job as one of Philly's finest. Digging through lives to solve murders is all in a day's work for Tara Chambler and Carol Peletier, though being homicide detectives cannot prepare them for what's to come in both their romantic lives and on the job.
1. The Prologue

_As requested by ChamblerBr._

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

 _Prologue_

– – –

Tara smiled at the happy couple engaged in their first dance as man and man, and she drank from her glass. She hasn't always been a fan of wine, but given her roommate from the academy who only drank wine until Tara broke her habit and showed her the other types of booze, she'd gotten the taste for it. Besides it was this or the bubbly, and the bubbly was a sad reminder that she was nowhere near drinking bubbly at her own wedding and would be going home alone tonight. Well, not entirely alone.

She had a hot piece coming home with her. Sadly, that hot piece was just her partner and friend of ten years. And also unfortunately very heterosexual, though if Tara loaded her up enough, she might swing the other way for a night. She wasn't the person to try, but she would without a doubt get her drunk and record the mess booze had made of her to use as blackmail for clothes borrowing or shift exchanging. She was a drunk singer type, and it was the funniest fucking thing. She still had a tape of it buried from their college years, and it was Halloween, so she was loaded and dressed up. As a not slutty, but after she was wasted a semi-slutty nurse.

Tonight was a special night. Tonight their best friend—and co-worker—said goodbye to the shark tank of dating and married the person they all could hope to marry. They were cute together, sometimes in the annoying way that made her teeth shudder, but mostly in the way you hated them because they had a closeness and connection you hadn't found with another person, or a TV show. Or even a good pair of a socks. Her dating life was so sad lately.

"Where's the hard stuff?" She set her glass on the table.

"I think Rosita drank it all." Her aforementioned partner and one of her best friends smirked at her, those typically messy brown curls flat ironed and lying pinned up to the side, cupped against her gentle cheekbones that were high from the smile on her painted lips, and she adjusted the gold cross resting on her neck, her two shades from alabaster skin pale against the straps of her red gown. All the work of the lovely groom who had been dying to her her out of her work clothes and into something a "dash more girly". She complied, because a pissed off groom was just as bad as a pissed off bride. Luckily his requests were too bad.

"Fuck me."

"Give me another one of these, I just might."

Tara laughed and reached over to wrap her arms around her. "I love you. Have I told you that?"

She smiled. "I love you too."

"How drunk are you two?" Maggie asked the pair who were goofy and all wrapped up in each other like two little kids on a playground.

"A little bit." Tara released her partner. "Right, Carol?"

"You might be a little drunk, but I am thoroughly besotted." She raised her champagne flute. "Let us pray no one gets killed, or I'm screwed."

"I'll drink to that." Glenn raised his own flute. "And to the groom and groom. I'll drink to them too."

Aaron and Eric gazed at each other like there was no one else in the room, that precious song of theirs embracing their small group of guests, and it was beautiful. The ceremony had been beautiful, and the reception was simply...heartwarming. It was like coming home to your family, and Tara was grateful to be apart of this day. Having known Aaron since he was a rookie cop, busting through the back streets of Philly, scrambling for his shield like the rest of them, she felt even more proud and elated for him. Eric was a good match, and she couldn't find the words as Aaron's best woman to describe a love like theirs. Corny as fuck, but true. It made her think maybe soul mates and all that jazz was real. One glance at them and anyone would think that.

"Ten bucks Rosita goes home with Eric's cousin," Carol whispered to her partner.

"Ten bucks she's already nailed him," Tara challenged. "In the bathroom."

"Guys," Glenn nagged, "come on. We agreed: no bets tonight. Let's keep it civil. It's a wedding, for Pete's sake."

"But it's what we do," Carol retorted. "Rosita already bet ten bucks she was going home with someone."

"That's just cheating." Maggie leaned against her husband, hand resting on her round stomach. "These pools of yours are rigged, you know."

"He knows." Tara grinned. "He doesn't care."

Glenn sheepishly looked at his wife. "It's all in good fun."

"Says the man who can barely afford a cab ride home," Maggie teased.

He chuckled. "I'll bet five then. Her and the drummer."

"God, no wonder we can't afford rent," Maggie said, only sightly judging her husband. "How did you make detective? She hasn't even looked at him all night."

"Hey, I am a good cop."

"Yeah, yeah. I want in on this one. I say...hmm. I'm with Carol. The cousin."

"My wife, ladies."

She chuckled and kissed his cheek. "I'm carrying your child, Mr. Rhee, just be thankful I haven't ripped your head off tonight for makin' me a wear dress."

"Well, if I can't wears sweats to this thing, neither could you."

"So we have two for the cousin, one for the drummer, and one for already done him." Tara wrote it down on a napkin. "Ten from me, ten from the lovely lady in question, ten from Carol, five from Glenn, and five from the balloon."

"Hey!" Maggie glared. "That's _Mrs._ Balloon."

"Oh, how dare I not include that." She set a hand over her heard and bowed her head. "Do forgive me."

"I'd make you wait, but I have to pee again, so you're forgiven."

"All right. Where's Ty?"

"Please, like Boss would ever get in on one of ours pools." Glenn watched Maggie leave for the bathroom. "Especially one like this."

"Well, get your partner over here." Tara polished off her wine. "We need all of us in."

"It's his first dance!"

"Oh, he told me fifteen for the usher," Carol suddenly recalled. "Which makes me want to reconsider. He never loses our pools, and if it wasn't leak week and I didn't drink enough to make consent nearly questionable, I'd jump him."

"No sex for you." Tara slid her glass of champagne over to Glenn, who moved it into the chair beside him. "And no more drinking."

She huffed a sigh but didn't fight. "I want some of that cake. Or all of that cake." She sat back. "I could eat it all of it myself. I'm confident on that."

"You and Maggie both." Glenn chuckled. "She's had such a sweet tooth these last couple of weeks."

"Speak of the Mrs. Balloon." Tara smirked.

Yet the joke died at the wide-eye look in Maggie's eyes, her hand on her plump belly, and they knew what had happened in the bathroom. Still she gave her stuttered reported, Aaron noticed how they looked at her, and soon everyone was guiding Maggie to the car. Eric stayed behind to settle everything here, wishing Maggie luck and congratulations. Aaron kissed him goodbye and took the wheel while everyone else piled in the back of...the limo Eric and Aaron had them ride in.

"Just breathe," Glenn told her. "Like we learned in class."

She tightened her grip on Glenn's hand. "I know."

Aaron started the limo with Ty in the passenger seat, _Lights_ by Journey began to play, and Carol giggled at the sound of it, completely lost to the booze. "Hold on, folks!"

Tara began to pump her partner with water from the mini-fridge, Glenn and Rosita helped Maggie through the contractions, Ty instructed Aaron through Philly for the quickest route to the hospital, and Journey filled the space between pained groans and muffled struggling. Carol didn't want to drink water, but Tara wasn't going to let her be drunk when a member of their family was about to give birth to the first baby. She'd thank her for it later, and if she didn't then at least she'd be sober. Ish.

At the hospital, Glenn and Maggie were rushed off to somewhere Tara didn't know as she caught Carol and kept her from wandering the halls of the hospital. Tyreese and Aaron parked the limo, Aaron called Eric outside to see how soon he could be here, and Rosita called the Greenes and the Rhees to let them know their little babies were about to be parents.

"I'm going to regret tonight," Carol moaned, stomach full of liquid, sinking down into a chair in the waiting room. "God."

Tara smiled. "I'll make you hangover eggs."

"Please, don't."

Tyreese removed his jacket and hung it over her shoulders, giving one a squeeze, and she smiled weakly at him. "Eric will be here soon with their overnight bag."

"Good, because Hershel and Annette can't fly in until tomorrow, and Glenn's mom will be here in an hour. She and Glenn's sisters were doing...something. My phone sucks, and I need a new one, so how's that pool coming, guys?" Rosita flashed a sweet smile. "Don't be cheap, okay? I really need a new phone, and our salary sucks."

"Watch it," Ty gently reprimanded his detective.

"It's true." She removed her heels and coiled up beside Carol. "We're Philly's finest, but we get paid like Philly's—"

"Lay off," Tara interjected. "Our friends are married, and a baby's on the way. You can rant all you want tomorrow."

"I'll hold you to it." She winked at her colleague.

"Promise, gorgeous." Tara plopped down beside Carol, rubbing her back. "If you need to hurl, let me know."

"I have an iron gut," she mumbled. "I'll just suffer a headache from hell."

"I'll get food later," Rosita promised. "Your favorite: greasy burgers and fries with a chocolate milkshake."

Carol moaned at the thought of food. "Why did you have to give me so much water? I feel like _I'm_ pregnant, and it's not settling well."

Rosita laughed. "Want us to rub your belly?"

"Stop talking to me."

"Not a chance." She propped her chin on her knuckles, leaning over into Carol's personal space, and at how Carol suffered, the humor lost its touch, and she felt bad. She'd been there before. "I'll get you some aspirin, okay?"

Tyreese observed his detectives. He had been in that office through about three rotations of homicide cops, but this group was the only group he'd seen that was truly a family. He felt like a father to this group of twenty-somethings, and he adored them. They had the perfect balance, and he was stunned at how well they meshed. With how they teased and prodded each other, you'd think they hated each other, but no. He didn't think for a second any member of this team could hate another member. They were family. A damn good quality to have when chasing the assholes that lurked the streets.

There was Rosita Espinosa with her gut instinct, Tara who was all heart, Carol who—when not drunk off her ass—was the brains, Glenn with his ability to connect dots no one else saw, and Aaron with his almost unnatural skill to draw out confessions from even the most tight-lipped SOBs out there. That helped partner them off, save for Espinosa who flew solo. They couldn't afford a sixth murder cop, but they made due. Rosita could ride with the others when she was sick of flying alone. She and Glenn had a good mix, as did her and Tara. Now her and Aaron was downright cruel, they were the masters of Good Cop/Bad Cop.

Ah, but so on the flip side, Carol and Tara were just as lethel with how they knew just when to feed an ego and when to go for the throat. Tara was all heart, but that didn't mean for a second was a softie. Carol seemed to play off that, and whatever witness they had in the box fell right into their trap. That's why he made them partners. That, and Aaron and Glenn were already partnered before the fresh blood came.

"Did you kill her?" Aaron pointed to Carol.

"No. I'm trying to will myself better." Carol lifted her head, opening her eyes. "Not working."

"Who needs verbs?" Tara waggled her eyebrows.

"If we were at home, I'd make you a drink." Aaron loosened his tie. "It'd wipe your system clean. You might die a little, but you'd feel great. In one to two hours."

"Dude." Tara frowned. "No. I've had that shit, and I spent half of my morning puking. I thought I was pregnant for about two seconds, but unless God has a sense of humor..."

He chuckled. "True. So, how was the bet coming?"

"I think we ought to drop it with baby Rhee on the way, and the sick one here."

"Since when do we drop bets?"

"Since you began a boring married person."

He reached over and yanked her tie, she laughed when it came off in his hand, and he scoffed. "A clip-on? You wore a clip-on to my wedding?" He threw it at her, and she continued to snicker. "Asshole."

Carol giggled despite feeling like shit, Tyreese couldn't help himself, and he couldn't clear his throat to hide it, and Aaron shook his head at them.

"This isn't funny. Where's the class?"

"We have a bet going on who Rosita will sleep with," Carol stated, "and you wanna know where the class is?"

His brows rose in agreement as his head bobbed. "I should have gone to vice."

"Don't ever say that again." Rosita smacked him right in the back of the head. "You're a murder cop, Aaron. It's in your blood."

"No, alcoholism and being blind to things you aren't fond of are in my blood," he retorted.

The laughter died then. Aaron's parents had disowned him for being...not what they wanted him to be, and when he told them about the wedding and who the "bride" was, hoping all the years would have softened them, they said he'd burn in hell and "people like him" were ruining marriage for "the rest of us". Rosita egged their house, and Tara, who had been violently ill at the time, threw up in their rose garden and on their welcome mat and on their "lawn of the year" sign. Aaron couldn't help but laugh when he found out, though he chewed them out later for wasting their time. He'd made peace with it, and he had Eric. He had them, so as Tara and Rosita has said: Fuck 'em.

"Does this mean we can't get cake?" Carol whispered, swallowing the pills offered to her without water. "I can't have any now, but later..."

"Eric is bringing some with him, just for you." He smiled at his adorably wasted colleague. "Thank you guys for coming, by the way. I didn't say it earlier, but it meant the world to me and to Eric."

"Like you could keep us away." Rosita snapped her clutch closed. "I'd have barged into that church just to watch you two get married."

"I'd be her back up," Tara declared, matter-of-fact. "Me and my clip-on."

"Someone had to drink the bar dry," Carol weakly added.

"And someone had to keep an eye on you hoodlums," Ty inserted.

"Aww, you know you love us." Rosita threw an arm around his shoulder.

"I wouldn't take a bullet for any of you," he mused. "Maybe a knife, but only if it's a flesh wound."

"Gee, thanks, Boss." Tara shrugged out of her blazer and folded it in her lap. "Remind me to never be in a hostage situation with you."

"You should never be in a hostage," Aaron corrected. "You're a lesbian. You wouldn't survive."

"True." She snapped her finger. "Damn, why did I choose this career? I could have been a nurse like my sister."

"There was no parking," Carol muttered.

Tara chuckled and grasped her hand. "She's so cute. Can we keep her like this forever?"

"You want this with you when you're trying to track down a killer?" Rosita motioned to her, still with her arm around Boss. "She's a lump. A fashionable lump, nevertheless a lump."

"Her liver wouldn't survive it either," Aaron threw out. "Besides she's only this drunk 'cause of you know who."

Tara sighed. "I know. I live with her, and I was there when assface came by."

"Well, at least when this is over, she can't say it was a shitty day," Rosita reasoned. "We attended a wedding that was touching, got free drinks, and now our little Rhee is gonna born on top of that. And no one died."

Just then Ty's phone rang, Tara and Aaron both groaned, and Rosita sucked air in through her teeth. Well, almost no one died.

– – –

Thankfully, it was just Tyreese's sister, Sasha. She was in the middle of her shift and was wondering if could check on her son before he went home. She and her beau were having trouble, and she wanted to make sure he didn't stop by to see Tamir.

"Bye, Boss. Kiss little T for me, okay?" Tara adjusted herself in the chair, her leg asleep.

"Kiss little Rhee for me."

"I knew you loved us!" she called after him teasing.

"Prove it."

Aaron had gone to meet Eric outside, Rosita wanted some coffee, and Carol was either passed out or trying to will herself back to feeling better. Tara knew tonight had been hard on her. She'd gone from being in a three year relationship to being single all because assface decided just now he didn't want to be tied down anymore. They'd been taking about buying a townhouse and marriage and the whole enchilada. Tara knew this relationship wasn't an easy thing for Carol, and for him to say this now, knowing the struggle she'd endured to get _that_ far, he was the epitome of assfacery. If she ever saw him alone on the street, she'd cuss the fuck out of him and knee him. Assface didn't need to procreate anyway.

The happy couple joined them, Eric, ever the photographer, snapped a picture of them, and Tara posed with the semi-dead Carol and Aaron was seen hiding his face behind Tara's clip-on. It was a ten out of ten.

"Where's Rosita?" Eric settled in the chair by his new husband.

"Starbucks, probably. She wanted coffee, and she won't settle for hospital coffee." Aaron removed his tie and folded it. "She has more standards for coffee than for the guys she dates."

"And she's proud of it." Eric snapped a picture of his husband. "There's nothing anyone can do to make Rosita feel ashamed of how she lives her life, and I admire that about her. I'd kill to have her confidence."

"Why? You've already got me."

Tara gagged at the sugary-sweet line. "Please, you guys promise—no lovey-dovey stuff in the office!"

"We're not at the office." He intertwined his fingers through Eric's. "And one day you'll understand."

"Take me out and shoot me," she begged Carol, "if I am ever that corny."

"Pow." Carol shot her with a finger gun. "It's a promise, and freakin' ditto."

"One day, you'll find the right person, and you'll be hating yourselves for this," Eric told them with conviction and not trace of sarcasm. "I look forward to that day. You both deserve someone like Aaron is to me."

"Sure." Carol pushed herself up and out of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. "I'll be back."

Eric's mouth formed a downward line. "Was it something I said?"

"No, it was Shane," Tara answered. "Mr. Sudden Commitment Issues broke up with her. We were trying to keep it hush, because of your wedding."

"Oh." He tsked. "God, that's awful. They've been together for a long time."

"It's why she insisted on getting hammered."

"I should apologize."

"No!" Tara and Aaron exclaimed.

"Why not? What I just told her after what happened to her today—"

"If you apologize, she'll know you know about Shane, and then she'll know we told you. We promised we wouldn't mention it, and you know how Carol is about giving her your word," Tara explained. "She understands that you didn't know and didn't mean to hurt her, just let her be, okay?"

He nodded. "Okay."

About twenty minutes later, Rosita showed up with coffee from Starbucks, Carol shuffled her way back, and they waited for the rest of family to show. And, of course, for the baby Rhee to make the big appearance.

– – –

"How are you feeling?" Rosita had followed Carol into the bathroom. She'd been sick of hovering in the waiting room. It felt like twenty hours of her life had been wasted in there. Plus she was worried about Carol. She didn't date long term for the exact reason Carol was hurting. "I can pick up another coffee for you. I don't mind."

"I don't need anymore coffee." She gazed unblinkingly at the water pouring from the faucet "Thank you, though."

"I get rough break ups." She walked over to her. "They suck. Suck doesn't cover it, but you weren't the only one knockin' 'em back." She smiled at her friend. "He's an asshole, and he didn't know his luck. You're better off without him, and I know you don't want to hear that right now, but it's the truth."

Carol shut off the water. "I just...give up."

"On men? Or relationships?"

"For now both, but mostly relationships."

"You'll find a great guy one day. Or girl. Who knows what the future holds."

Carol laughed. "I don't there's enough money in the world for some poor girl to want to be with me."

"Hey, don't sell yourself short. I'd do you."

"Says the girl who does everybody."

Rosita was glad to see her quipping again. "Hey now, not everybody, okay? I _do_ have standards." She wrapped her arms around Carol and hugged her tightly. "I'm sorry."

Carol didn't want to cry, but having Rosita be here and apologize for something that was out of her hands melted her resolve. She hugged her back and trembled, the tears she'd locked away escaping, and Rosita tightened her grip. Carol wondered if she was trying to squeeze the pain out of her, and it wasn't working, but the thought really did count here. She was glad she came after. It was a fresh wound, and there was no use pretending it wasn't.

"Once baby Rhee is here, I'll take you out." Rosita released her. "Dinner, just us. I know a place that makes great margaritas."

"That'd be great."

"Although we might have to invite Tara."

"Designated driver?"

"Yes. See how we connect? We should be partners."

"Take it up with the boss."

"Single out of work and single in work. Imagine being me for the past...oh, three years."

Carol laughed.

"Guys!" Tara bolted into the bathroom. "She's here!"

––

Wrapped up in the blanket Maggie had bought months ago just for this day was little baby Rhee, all six pounds, eight ounces of her. She was so tiny and so precious, with a sprinkling of Glenn's black hair atop her head, the mouth that resembled her mother's mouth opening in a big yawn, and those dark green eyes cracking open to see why the heck they were staring at her.

"Awww." Tara gripped her heart. "I just want to eat her up."

Maggie smiled. "After the last few hours of tryin' to get her out, not a chance in hell."

"I wouldn't and couldn't, but she's so cute."

"She's got that Rhee nose," Rosita pointed out. "It's all tiny and cute on her, though."

"Oh, I see it now," Carol joked. "Maybe it'll stay that way, you know, unlike Glenn's."

Glenn scoffed. "Thanks, guys, so glad I let you in the door."

They laughed, Glenn rolled his eyes while trying to repress his smile, and Maggie let them take turns holding her. She was an angel, and every single person in that room silently made a vow to never let anything happen to her. This kid just got the majority of the murder cops in Philly as bodyguards, and you didn't want to mess with Eric. He was a slender man, but he could blind the fuck out of you with the flash of his camera.

"What's her name?" Aaron inquired, rocking the sweet baby girl in his arms.

"Lauren," Glenn replied. "Lauren Mae."

"Mae Rhee?" Tara snorted. "Really?"

"Ma made me," Maggie groaned. "It was her grandmother's name, and since Shawn's was a boy and Daddy gave Beth the middle name Ruth, I had to use it."

"Pulled the tradition card, eh?" Carol held her arms out for her turn of holding Lauren.

"Yeah."

"Well, as long as you don't call her Lauren Mae Rhee all at once, I think it'll be fine."

"We're considering a second middle name." Glenn watched his daughter be passed to Tara a moment later. "Adeline, but I dunno."

"Adeline being?" Tara tucked a bit of loose blanket back in.

"It's my mom's middle name," Maggie confessed. "My birth mom, not Annette."

"Oh."

"What do you guys think?" She searched their faces one by one.

"It's good." Tara sat on the foot of the bed with Lauren in her arms. "And I can her L'MAR."

"Don't you dare." Maggie playfully glared.

"Fine, fine, but add the second middle name." She peered down at the newest member of their family, smiling broadly at the little gem, and she got all of her looks and light snuggles in before their parents arrived, and nobody saw anymore of the baby. She knew Beth would be on her like white on rice, so she took this moment to get it out of her system.

"Let's take a picture." Rosita reached for Eric's camera. "We have a lot to celebrate and remember, so move in. I'm gonna borrow a nurse."

They all found a place around the bed to stand, Tara handed the bundle over to her mom, and Rosita returned with a nurse. He was happy to take the picture, and Rosita squeezed in. It was the first picture of the new team, and it was a keeper.


	2. This Is PPD

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

Tara stared at the report lying on her desk, wondering just how many times she'd have to read it before it made any sense. She knew Not-Rhee had yet to come in this morning, and she knew Espinosa was making a coffee run, so she'd have to weight for Peletier to get her ass in her to make sense of this. She was too tired to even blink. She was seriously tempted to splash water in her eyes to keep them from drying up.

"I know I forgot to pick up coffee from the store, so I had Rosita grab you something." Carol set her bag and phone on the desk. "Wow, I thought I looked like shit."

"Thank you."

"No, I mean we both look equally like shit. It's good for my heart to know you look just as bad." She tapped her finger on the paper on Tara's desk. "What's this?"

"I think this goes to the cold unit." She held it out.

"Let me see." She read over it. "Yeah, this has Rush written all over it. I'll take it down there once the coffee has arrived."

Tara stretched. "When does Aaron get back from the honeymoon? Not that I mind being partnered with not-Glenn, but seriously."

Carol smirked. "He'll be back in one week, Tara. It's been two days, and his name is...Brian. He's not that bad."

"Says the one who's never been stuck with him. At least Aaron's funny. What does Brian have going for him?"

"Rice cakes." Carol remembered the pile of them in the break room. "Lots of rice cakes."

"You mean those flavored cardboard discs?"

"You ate something healthy? And you didn't die?"

"I did die, but I came back to haunt your mope-y ass." She hopped up. "Come out with me tonight."

"No. We have the Paramore case, and I don't want to leave it. If I do, I'll be taking it down to cold jobs."

"Ugh."

"I have coffee." Rosita set the cup holder on their desks. "Brian isn't here, right? I didn't bring him any."

"He lectured us last time." Tara rolled her eyes. "I like coffee and energy drinks. I don't like being told how bad they are for me and my heart."

"He's just looking out for you."

"Yeah, I have Glenn and Aaron for that, and I don't need Wheat Boy."

"You're awfully grouchy about this whole situation," Rosita noted. "Not a fan of change?"

"Glenn's a dad, Aaron's married, and it's weird. I'm happy for them, but it's like a ticking clock has been placed in this office. Hell, even Boss is married. Well, has been married. A couple times, so hey, look at that. Love enough to marry more than once." She drank from her coffee, ignoring how it burned. "Oh happy day, right?"

"Do you want to get married and have kids?" Rosita walked over to her own desk and set her coffee down. "You're not even in your thirties, Tara. Live a little."

"I don't want those things right now, but eventually, maybe. It just feels like I'm pressured to have it now. I don't like being pressured into things, and until Glenn and Aaron are back, this office won't feel right." She lowered her voice. "And he plays Bach in the car. It's the longest piece of music I've ever had to suffer through!"

Carol snorted a laugh.

Rosita rolled her eyes. "Wow, you poor thing. It's so difficult being you."

"I know, right?"

"Gooooood morning!" The was Brian.

Tara made a finger gun and placed it in her mouth, dramatically pulling the trigger and dying when he wasn't in the room, and Carol swatted her. Tara dropped down into her desk. "Morning, Brian."

"I'm gonna run down to cold jobs." Carol collected her coffee and the report. "We have a lead on the missing suitcase. Why don't you two go check it out? Espinosa's getting cobwebs from sitting in here."

"Why don't you and Bry go check it out?" Tara suggested. "I have a million calls to make to track down Tommy, and look at the time! I need to get to work." She snatched up the phone and began to dial.

Rosita glared daggers at her but forced it back. "Only if I can drive."

"Then I'm in charge of the music." He bounced toward the elevator.

"Enjoy your slow death," Tara whispered.

"Who the hell is that cheery following a lead in a murder investigation?" Rosita threw her arms up. "God, no wonder he doesn't need coffee. He _is_ the coffee."

"You'd better catch up, or he'll get there all on his own and forget you're not there."

Carol walked Rosita out, stopping on the third floor, and Rosita wanted to beg Carol to take her with her. Returning a report could be a two person job, or so she tried to tell Brian before the doors shut and her chance of freedom was gone. She wasn't fond of the man. She had no reason to dislike him, but he was a little dry and a little too perky. This wasn't a perky type of job, and if he wasn't so weird about blood, she might think he'd be a killer. Maybe he was in a past life, and his punishment in this one was to pass out at the sight of fresh blood. God help her.

Carol handed the file to Miller, briefly going explaining the mix up, and she parted ways with her, checking her phone to see if she had any missed calls. There wasn't a single one, and she bit her bottom lip. It wasn't a big deal. To be honest, she would be freaked out if there were missed calls or texts. She wouldn't know how to begin to answer them. She wanted a clean break, and he was giving her just that. But she never told him that, and it stung more than she thought it would. Realizing the last three years meant little to him didn't just sting; it was like a bullet to the chest.

"You okay?"

She lifted her eyes to one of the detectives working cold jobs. "Yeah, yeah, fine." She forced a smile and stepped into the elevator. She was grateful to be alone, because the last time she was in an elevator, she cried. There was nothing sad or hurtful about the ride up, but she'd read the interview report and saw baseball mentioned on it. A baseball cap, to be exact, and Shane had about a million of those, and that was enough to break the dam. It was ridiculous and embarrassing. A fucking cap? That's what did it? At least when she was drunk, her tears were brought on by more relevant things. Like hugs.

She buried her face in her empty hand. "Fuck it." Fuck today, fuck men, fuck trying to act like she didn't want to devour ten tons of ice cream in an attempt to fill the hole in her body. Three years and in one twenty minute conversation it was gone. "Fuck."

––

Tara wrote down the address. "You're sure you saw them fighting?" She spotted Carol and the rain cloud was back in full force. "Thank you, Tommy. Have a nice day."

"Did he give us something good?" Carol was trying to keep her mood out of her voice, but Tara was a cop too. She could probably read it off her pinkie.

"Yeah, the secretary Joan Adams was seen with our vic. They were fighting in the parking lot."

"We have an address?" The fist time they spoke was at Mr. Paramore's office, so they had no home addresss.

"Yeah, got it right here."

"Let's go see her. I need the air."

"Are you all right?"

"Doesn't matter. We have a lead. C'mon, Chambler. I'll even let you drive."

"As if you could stop me."

They headed to the car, Carol turned on the radio on the drive over to Joan's house, and Tara tried to be inconspicuous with her glances at Carol. She had been sober since the wedding, though she took awfully long showers the past two days in a row. She always came out with red eyes, and she'd laugh it off, saying it was soap from her shampoo and how she must be allergic. Tara joked that she should use hers, but it must have set her off, because she excused herself to her bedroom. She couldn't hear through the door, but when she slipped out for a glass of water, her nose was ten times more red. Tara didn't know why, but she stopped talking about it.

At the house of Joan Adams, Carol took point, and Tara tossed her sunglasses into the backseat. Joan let them inside, offering them the usual coffee or water, and they politely declined. She had a nice house, and Tara wouldn't mind living in a place like this. Smaller and without so much antique-looking furnishings though. She wasn't a fan of the red and gold floral.

"Would you mind telling us about the fight you and Mrs. Paramore had?" Carol crossed her legs, pen poised over notepad. "And why you didn't feel the need to mention it when we spoke to you at the office?"

Joan sighed slowly. "I was trying to avoid this."

"This being?" Tara rested her elbows on her thighs.

 _"This."_ She motioned to nothing and adjusted the collar of her shirt. "You should know that Mr. Paramore is a good man. He works very hard for the company and for the his employees."

"I didn't ask about Mr. Paramore," Carol remarked. "I asked about his wife. Your little fight in the parking lot."

"She was going to leave him!" Joan blurted. "A good, hard-working man like that, and she was just going to walk away!"

"Tabby was leaving him?" Tara's brows shot up. "He didn't mention that."

"Well, she never got around to telling him. The night she decided was the night she was killed," Joan elaborated. "That's why we fought. I knew Mr. Paramore was planning this lovely vacation for their wedding anniversary, and I knew how much he loved her. I thought it was selfish to leave without trying to make it work. She said I don't know him and he isn't the man everyone thinks he is." She clicked her tongue. "I've worked for the man for nearly twenty years, but I don't know him? Nonsense."

"You can be with someone for fifty years," Carol replied, "and not know them at all."

Tara looked at her then back to Joan. "Did she say anything more on that?"

"No. She just said she was done with him, with this conversation, and she wouldn't be back."

"What time was this?"

"Around eight-forty-five," she recalled. "She—she left at that exact time every night. She used to leave at ten, but for some reason she cut it back to eight-forty-five at the start of the year."

Carol closed the notepad. "Thank you for your time."

They exited the house, Tara wondered why Tabby began to leave so early, and Carol glanced back at Joan as she buckled herself in. She didn't like the woman. She was clearly more protective of Mr. Paramore than their victim, and she acted like she knew everything about him. She wasn't a friend of his, he made that clear when they interviewed him yesterday, so who was she to say he was so great?

"Think she's our doer?" Tara slipped her sunglasses back on.

"No. She'd probably have a stroke if she broke a fingernail." Carol exhaled. "And Tabby was killed by blunt force trauma to the head. I don't see her dirtying her hands with it."

"I know what you mean by her. She's weird."

"I think she's in love with her boss," Carol admitted. "No one's that doting on a man who snaps his fingers to get your attention and dismisses you with a sharp glare."

"Glutton for punishment." Tara smirked. "Fitting."

"So," Carol changed the subject, "now we have new questions: why was Tabby leaving work so early?"

"And why did she say her husband isn't the man everyone thinks he is?"

"Maybe Rosita and Brian found some lucky with the missing suitcase." She rubbed her temple. "It now makes sense—the suitcase. She was leaving him."

"But none of her clothes were missing." Tara weaved through the cars to get over. "Her closet was full, not a suit or shirt out of place."

"Maybe she didn't want to take designer clothes. They _do_ stand out, and that's the last thing you want to do when skipping town."

"Or maybe the suitcase was used to dispose of the murder weapon."

"It wasn't a big suitcase, and it couldn't hold much," Carol concurred. "It's a possibility."

"If it is, _you're_ talking to Brian about it."

– – –

Back at HQ, Carol and Tara were greeted with Brian and Rosita and Tyreese, the mud stained once robin's egg-colored suitcase lying on the table, and they hurried over. They'd yet to open it, but the gold plate read: Tabatha Paramore. Brian happily handed out gloves like he was a kid at Christmas. This was the first piece of evidence since Tabby's body as found floating in the Schuylkill, and Carol wanted to deck him right in the eye. No one should be this thrilled. It wasn't as though they'd found the killer or murder weapon. Hell, this might not even give them a key piece of evidence. For all they knew, it was filled with rotting fish.

Tyreese did the honors, snapping open the lock, and he lifted the top, unveiling a soggy set of papers, a few piece of damp clothes and the missing wedding ring. Rosita collected the ring, Carol went for the papers, and Tara and Brian moved the clothes to see if there was anything more inside the case. There wasn't.

Upon further investigation of the soggy papers, they were revealed to be the divorce papers. Carol's nose crinkled after a thorough examination of what could be read from the papers, and Tara asked what was wrong.

"Tabby didn't want anything—not the house, not the car, not even the summer house."

"What?" Rosita had a look. "I would have asked for the summer house. It's beautiful, and in the Hampton's."

"What kind of woman wants a divorce and lets the man she doesn't love have everything?" Tara ran a flashlight over the lining of the suitcase to see if there were any tears or hidden pockets.

"A happy woman," Carol muttered. "She wouldn't have needed anything."

"Maybe she found herself a new man," Rosita mused.

Tara met her eyes. "That could be why she started leaving work early. Maybe he got out of work at the same time."

"What? They were serious enough for her to leave him and move in with Mr. Misstress?" Rosita arched a brow. "More reasons why I'm never getting married."

"Never say never," Brian said immediately after her.

Rosita rolled her eyes. "We have no proof of a new man in her life."

"Would her brother know?" Carol worked a a bit of curls that were falling in her face away with the dry part of her glove. "He said they were close, so he might have heard about him."

Tyreese nodded. "It's worth a shot. Call him in. And the husband."

"Dibs on the brother." Rosita tossed her gloves into the trash. "And I meant the phone call only."

"You could have meant it both ways, and you wouldn't upset me any." Carol picked up the phone from her desk to call in the husband. "Brian, why don't you handle that?"

"Yeah, Bry, handle this, please." Tara removed her gloves. "I'm gonna pull her cell phone records, see if I can find a number for this man. If he's real."

"Have fun with that."

"I'm practically jumping for joy."

––

"What's this about, detectives? Have you found who killed my sister?" Tabby's baby brother, Arnold, sat across from Rosita and Carol in the interview room. "Was it her husband?"

"What makes you think it was her husband?" Carol searched his eyes.

"I—That guy just never sat right with me, y'know? He...he was too good. At his job, at winning people over, flashing those pearly whites at everyone. It's just—a feeling, you know?" He licked his lips. "You ever just look at someone and know they're...lying through their teeth?"

"You should meet my exes," Rosita muttered.

"We don't have that kind of time," Carol automatically replied then remembered where she was, though Rosita was smirking, and even Arnold was smiling slightly. "What I meant was we need to close this case soon, so no more jokes."

"She's right." Rosita leaned on the table. "Was Tabby seeing someone on the side? Do you know?"

"You mean—was she cheating?"

"Yes."

He sighed. "She was...seeing a guy. I don't know the full extent of their relationship, but she spent a lot of time with him."

"Why didn't you tell us this?" Carol asked.

"I didn't want people to call her a slut or shame her. She's dead, isn't that enough?" He averted his misty eyes.

"Do you have a name? Of the man she was seeing?"

He shook his head. "No, she never mentioned names. She didn't want me involved."

She nodded. "Is that everything, Arnold? Because if we have to track you down again, I'm gonna start to get suspicious."

"That's all I know," he vowed.

Rosita nodded and wondered what Tara and Wheat Boy had gotten out of the husband.

––

"Are you kidding me? My wife is dead! You think I did it?" Donald Paramore barked at the two detectives. "And you have me in here with Susie Pigtails and—and some rookie?"

Tara heard he was a pig, but wow, that's an insult to the pigs. "Mr. Paramore, just answer the question."

"Our marriage was fine! She wasn't cheating, and I definitely wasn't! We were in love! For pity's sake, we had a trip planned for our anniversary!"

"You don't have to shout." Tara tried not to sound miffed, but she wanted to smack him. "And that doesn't prove anything."

He puffed up his chest. "I knew my wife like I know myself. She wasn't the type of woman to do that, and believe me, I gave her no reason to stray."

Oh, barf. Tara repressed the urge to roll her eyes. "Why did your wife start leaving work almost two hours early?"

"We were trying to start a family, and her working late was a hindrance."

"But you still worked till ten, eleven, twelve at night," Brian threw out. "Joan said she had to work late with you, to make you coffee and help you...with your schedule."

His lips pursed, and he said nothing.

"So, again: why did your wife start leaving work almost two hours early?"

"Hell if I know." He folded his arms. "She—she started taking art classes, wanted to channel her stress or some shit. Thought I didn't see a bit of her "art"."

"Where was this?"

"I don't know. She tried a lot of different classes across the state. She had an office. Feel free to search it."

"We will." Tara closed the file. "Were you seeing anyone, Mr. Paramore? On the side?"

He smugly smiled and stood up, adjusting his tie with the aid of the two-way mirror. "I'll be going."

"If you were seeing someone who wasn't entirely stable, who diluted herself into thinking you were leaving your wife for her, I need to know." She returned his smile. "She may have gone after her when she found out about your little anniversary trip."

"Trust me, I wasn't seeing any woman like that."

"So, a man then?" Brian inquired.

Tara had to focus to not bust out laughing, Mr. Paramore turned blue in the face and stormed out of the room, and Brian shook his head at how flustered he'd become at such a simple question. Tara clapped his shoulder and decided that maybe Wheat Boy wasn't so terrible.

"Get anything?" Rosita met Tara and Brian outside interview room A.

"He granted us permission to search her study," Brian reported. "We'll do that tomorrow."

"Why not now? He might get rid of the evidence."

"He won't, because he's not our guy," Tara announced. "I don't think he even knows what kind of guy he is, but it's not a killer. A major dick, but other than that, nah."

"He's staying at a hotel anyway," Rosita added. "He invited me back for a "private interview"."

"Oh, gross."

"Yeah. I'm about ninety percent sure my vagina died at that. The other ten is still cringing."

"Tabby was having an affair," Carol confirmed. "But we don't have a name."

"He might be an artist." Tara tossed the file onto her desk. "Donald said Tabby was taking art classes."

"Let's hope she has a flyer of the class or classes in her office."

Tyreese called to his team for an update, and he decided that bright and early tomorrow morning Chambler and Peletier would search Tabby's office. It was too late to make that drive at this time, given the Paramore estate was about two hours out, and he didn't want them out that late. They seemed a bit worn already. After the wedding and birth two days ago, he didn't blame them. It'd been a crazy week.

"Get home rest. I'll see you all tomorrow."

"Yes, sir." Rosita yanked her coat off the back of her chair. "My bathtub is calling to me."

"So is my bed. I slept for shit last night." Tara shuffled toward the elevator. "It must be the lack of warmth in my bedroom."

"I'm sure you'll find someone to heat those sheets up with." Rosita threw her arm around Tara's shoulder.

"No, my room's always cold, but thanks for reminding me I haven't dated since dinosaurs roamed the Earth."

"Do what I do. Use 'em and lose 'em."

"Uhh, no, but thanks for the tip."

She rolled her eyes. "Right, you and Carol want "the dream"."

"No, not "the dream". I just want more than a one night stand." She shrugged a shoulder and pressed the down button on the elevator. "Sue me."

"One day, I just might."

Tara laughed slightly and glanced over at Carol, who was slowly wrapping her scarf around her neck, her eyes losing their work spark and returning to those empty and sorrow-filled oceans. She'd nearly forgotten about the break up. Carol always put work first, and seeing her back at it with only one slip up made Tara think she was better. Of course she wasn't. Shane had been part of her world for three years. Hell, both of their worlds since Carol hadn't moved in with him yet. She still sometimes expected to wake up and find him on the couch with a beer and their last bag of chips, watching some sport or another. She used to come out, smack him with a case file and go back to her room. It never hurt, and it was just to let him know he needed to turn the TV down, but all the assface did was laugh. Or he'd get all gross and get all kissy with Carol, and she'd gag all the back to her bedroom. Then they laughed. God, that assface!

"Hey, I need a favor," Tara whispered to Rosita. "It's about Carol."

"I'll bring the wine."

Tara smiled. "You don't even know what it is."

"I'll. Bring. The. Wine." She smiled back at her. "You'll thank me later."

"When I'm hungover and have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to search an office?"

"How much you drink isn't up to me," Rosita stepped into the elevator, "but I'm bringing four bottles just for good measure."

"And this is how I'll die."

"With wine and ladies?" Rosita mused.

"Well, when you put it like that."

– – –

Carol had gone straight to her bedroom, Tara ran down to the corner store to pick up some tissues and ice cream, and by the time she got back, Rosita was leaning against their door in nightclothes. She didn't remember inviting her over for the night, but she didn't want her going home drunk either. So she unlocked the door and let her in.

"I'll put these away." Tara took the bags from her hands. "Check on her."

Rosita knocked on the door, Carol didn't answer, so she turned the knob and pushed it open. Carol was still in her clothes, lying on the bed with her legs pulled in, and she was crying. Rosita removed her tennis shoes and climbed onto the bed behind her, moving aside the balled up tissues on the mattress with slight disgust, and Tara came in with a new box of tissues. They were super soft, and they'd feel better against her nose and skin.

"Hey, shhh." Rosita gathered the damp curls sticking to her face, and she rubbed her arm. "It's okay."

Carol shook her head, inhaling roughly. "No...it's not okay."

"Well, we're here." Tara scooted closer and set a hand on her leg. "We're not going anywhere, okay? So just cry it all out."

"I loved him so much," Carol strained. "I don't... I don't understand what happened..."

"Men are dicks?"

Tara sent Rosita a glare and lied down beside Carol. "I don't know what happened either, and I'm a cop. I was on the outside, and I didn't see this coming." She smoothed wild curls out of Carol's face. "If I had, I would have decked him."

She shook her head. "Can you not right now, please?" She squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm not angry. I—I'm just confused and—it hurts. I—God, I'm so stupid. How could I not see this coming? I must be the biggest idiot on the planet!"

"No, you're not." Rosita lied down and wrapped an arm around Carol's shoulder, nuzzling her chin into her shoulder. "You loved him and wanted to get married and have kids. You wanted a future. It's not your fault he bailed. You're not stupid. Don't tear yourself down. It doesn't make it easier."

"Does anything?" Carol snuffled.

"Honestly, it sounds like a cliché, but time helps. New relationships help, once you get there."

"I'm not there. I'm nowhere near there right now."

"Then just let it go." Rosita rubbed her arm. "Pretending it's not there isn't going to help, so fuck being tough and swallowing it. Cry until there's nothing left and then cry some more. We'll be here, like Tara said."

Tara was impressed. For someone who swore off serious dating, Rosita was good with the aftermath of a breakup. Tara hadn't been with someone as long as Carol and Shane since high school, and that obviously wasn't going to go anywhere. Shane and Carol were the couple you swore would have it all, and it fell to pieces in one short conversation. Tara didn't know what to say to make it better, but thankfully Rosita did. She was glad she asked her over.

Tara gripped Carol's hand and affectionately squeezed it, letting her know they were here, and also silently as fuck you Shane Walsh. She really hoped to never see that man on the street, or she'd have to kick his ass. Carol had never been so brokenhearted before, and she hoped if she saw Shane, he was like this too. It couldn't be just her who felt this way, who broke this way. She was too good a person to be dumped in a conversation shorter than the relationship, though a year and a half talk would be too much; however, a fucking conversation that explained why and didn't leave Carol feeling like the biggest idiot and worse girlfriend in the entire world would be fair. He was King Assface now. Childish or not, he had been with her for three goddamn years, knew her past, and yet he didn't have decency to end it with as little damage as possible.

Carol curled up tighter, Rosita held her closer, and Tara didn't let go of her hand. It wouldn't take just one big cry to get it all out of her system, but it was a start.


	3. Shitty Little Apartment

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

 _Carol was enveloped in both the amazing warmth of the blankets and strong arms, and she didn't want to wake up, but she couldn't stop herself. And of course she was up at good twenty minutes before her alarm clock sounded. She didn't want to deal with going off, so she reached over to shut it off, but she was tugged back._

" _No," it was a pout-y whisper against her neck._

 _She smiled and rolled as much as the arms would allow. "No? So you want to hear the screaming radio in twenty minutes?"_

" _If it keeps you from movin' then yeah." He raised his head from her shoulder. "Think you can stay still for twenty minutes for my sake?"_

" _No. I don't think I can."_

" _Too bad." He snuggled her closer, and she huffed when she couldn't move. "See, I get my way."_

" _Oh, your way?"_

" _Yes." He reached one of his hands up—though it didn't weaken his hold on her—and brushed the curls from her face. "You're like a poodle."_

" _Wow, with the things you say to me, it's a wonder I can keep my hands off you."_

 _He kissed the cocky smirk off her lips. "I like it. It's cute. Hope our kids get it."_

" _So you have give 'em lop-sided pigtails and snap about a million hair brushes? Not to mention losing about a billion bobby pins to those curls?"_

" _Yeah." He grinned at her. "All of that."_

 _She captured his chin when he loosened his grip on her, and she brought his face close, but she didn't kiss him. "You'll regret that."_

" _Nah, I don't think so."_

" _Well, I know so." She turned the alarm off._

" _You're not in my head, Peletier. You don't know nothin'."_

" _I bet ten bucks I know your top five thoughts."_

" _You're on." He propped his head on his hand. "Tell me what my thoughts are, detective."_

 _She held up a finger. "Your first thought is replacing your aftershave."_

 _He leaned over and lightly bit her index finger. "No fair, you heard me mention that last night."_

" _Still counts." She added another finger. "How much of our peanut butter you can steal before you piss Tara off."_

" _She doesn't even eat chunky," he protested. "She complains about it all the time."_

" _Yeah, but she likes it sometimes." Another finger popped up. "When I'll wear that purple thing you love so much."_

" _Soon, I hope."_

" _If you're lucky." She smirked and went to four. "If you can squeeze by without washing all of your clothes until the end of the week."_

" _It's your fault." He placed his hand on her stomach, stroking it with his thumb. "You keep wearin' all of my shirts."_

" _Because you throw my clothes all over the place, and I can never find them." She met his eyes. "Oh, and the fifth one is if you can get into my pants before work."_

" _You were right up until that last one."_

" _Really? The last one's where I went wrong?"_

" _I'm not wondering if," he corrected. "It's gonna happen."_

" _Hmm, I don't think so."_

" _Well, I know so." He pushed up and sat with his legs on either side of her, effectively pinning her to the bed and pushing up the worn red and white shirt of his she wore. "Then we're gonna get breakfast from that little donut shop. I probably won't shower."_

" _You're disgusting."_

" _Well, you're saying that now, but in about ten minutes you won't be able to stop callin' my name." He smirked at her, brow arched, and she could have sworn she saw the exact picture of him right now in the dictionary next to the word smug. "Oh, Shane, Shane, oh, ah faster..."_

 _She flushed. "You're an asshole." She covered his face with her hands, and he laughed. "Did you not graduate high school?"_

 _He shook with laughter. "You're adorable like that."_

" _Don't talk to me."_

 _He kissed her forehead, but she turned away. He knew she wasn't really upset, so he leaned forward and blew on her ear, and she jolted. He smiled. "Say like what."_

" _No." She covered the ear he'd blew in._

" _Say like what."_

" _Fine. Like what? When I'm like what?"_

 _He searched her eyes and his smile softened. "When you're calling my name like it's the only name in the world." He could see she was trying to ignore him, and that was adorable too. She failed at it. Epically failed at it. If anyone could fail more at pretending to ignore someone, it was her. "And when you...take charge. Though that's more hot than adorable." He lowered his voice. "When you get all rough and climb on top—"_

" _If you want rough, I think I can throw you into the wall." She met his eyes. "I've been working out."_

" _I've noticed." He leaned down and kissed the part of her stomach that was still exposed, and he trailed his way up when she didn't protest, rolling the shirt up with him. He came to her breasts, and she'd been arching against him, and while he'd normally love to take his time and shower every inch of her in kisses, they didn't have a lot of time before work. He yanked the shirt up and over her shoulders, throwing it aside, and he laided her back on the bed underneath him, moistening his fingertips and reaching down between her thighs..._

The alarm clock blared, Carol jolted and shut it off, moaning sleepily, cursing her dreams, her memories. She could feel how crust her face was from crying herself to sleep—again. The sad part was when she was first waking up, she felt the body beside her, and she thought it was him, but no. No, it was Rosita. Tara was stretched out along the foot of the bed. That's when she figure it out, and she would have cried some more if she had any water left in her body.

She stepped into the shower, scrubbing away the remains of tears from the night before and not caring that her hair was getting wet. She would pull it back before work. She wasn't in the mood to deal with brushing it out or hoping for it to look okay as it was. She didn't have the energy to do anything. She'd cried everything out of her last night, and it carried over to this morning. She wasn't going to be on her best until she had about two cups of coffee. She normally put an order in with Rosita on her way out the door, but Rosita was here, and she'd ask her to pick up some coffee on her way to work. She would be making that trip regardless.

Tara woke up with a pain in her neck, and she saw Rosita was the only one lying on the bed with her. She looked exhausted from their night before, so Tara let her be, seeing as they had a couple hours before work. She didn't want to wake the beauty, because she turned into full-on beast if she didn't get her full eight hours. She wasn't looking to get slapped like she had on their road trip to speak with a lead who lived out of state and couldn't come here. She went to wake Rosita, to let her know they'd arrived, and she smacked her. Rosita swore up and down it was accidental, but Tara didn't buy it. Her aim was too precise, and she seemed pleased with herself when she finally roused.

Tara heard the water in the bathroom and nearly made a pot of coffee, but they didn't have any. She sighed and settled for making breakfast and slapping her cheeks with cold water. If that didn't work, she'd fall asleep in her pancakes. She'd rather not fall face into batter, so the water would come first. Besides she wanted to cheer Carol up, and Shane wasn't a fan of pancakes. His best friend's wife couldn't make pancake well, and she put him off them for life. She would have to avoid waffles and grits though. Shane did like them, and he made them for her. Mostly on Wednesday, and he called it Waffle Wednesday. Assface ruined waffles for them. Ugh, why couldn't he have made French toast? Actually, scratch that.

Upon checking their poorly stocked fridge, Tara was left with making eggs and a piece of bacon. She found a couple pieces of bread in the bread basket and settled for eggs and toast. She began cracking eggs.

"You don't have to make breakfast."

She glanced over to find Carol wrapped in a towel, wet brown curls down her shoulders, and Tara smirked. "Well, it's too late for me to stop now."

"True."

"How do you feel?" She returned to cracking eggs. "Refreshed?"

"What?"

"From the shower."

"Oh. Yeah, I feel better." She hugged the towel tighter around her. "Is Rosita up?"

"No, the Sleeping Beauty still rests—and do not wake her up. You'll regret it."

"I need to change, and she's asleep in my bedroom. I'll risk it."

"Don't say I didn't warn you."

"Warn you about what?" Rosita stretched and stood behind Carol.

"It's nothing." Carol hurried to her bedroom and shut the door.

"You're making breakfast?" She walked over to the counter. "Do all you have are eggs?"

"Sadly, yes."

"I figured." She searched the cabinets and found a few ingredients she could use to spice up the eggs. She didn't want to have a bland breakfast to follow a day with semi-bland Brian. She just couldn't survive with that much bland in her life. "Here, I've got this. Why don't you find me something to wear?"

"Ehh?"

"What? I'm not going all the way home just to turn around and go back to work. We're all about the same size."

"No, we're not."

"Okay, so we're not. You're bustier than me and Carol, so I'll borrow one of her shirts, and I'll borrow a pair of your pants." She flashed a sweet smile. "Please? I'll return them to you both washed tomorrow morning. It's not like I can keep them. We work together, and you know where I live."

"Fine, but you're going to have to ask Carol to borrow a shirt."

"That's fine."

Tara left Rosita to make breakfast and changed into slacks and a shirt, brushing her hair. She spotted the picture of Meghan and Lilly from last Christmas. They went ice skating together with Carol and Shane. It was the best day. It was just the five of them, Carol brought her camera, and they took a lot of great pictures, but this was her favorite. Carol and Shane had gone to get hot chocolates for everyone, being overly romantic by Shane snuggling Carol in his jacket because she kept shuddering through her overcoat—barf—and Carol put Tara in charge of the camera. She'd caught Lilly and Meghan by surprise, and it turned out to be her favorite picture taken that entire night. Mostly because the others were spoiled with Shane, and Tara had to hide them away. There were two or three without him, but the pictures would bring back the day, so they all had to go.

She traced the outline of her sister's face and sighed. She hadn't seen them in nearly a year. Phillip moved them all the way to Washington to pursue his dream, and he didn't like Tara. She knew it. Carol knew it. Rosita knew it. The mute woman who fed the birds knew it. Lilly didn't, said Tara was being over dramatic, said they'd call and see each other all the time, but that was a lie. Clearly. She tried to call every other week, and she mostly got Meghan or the fucking housekeeper. There were three of them. Why the fuck did they have a housekeeper for just three people? She knew Lilly hadn't popped out Phillip's spawn yet, so how lazy were they up in D.C? Seriously, Meghan was going to get used to certain living standards, and when she couldn't meet them then Lilly would be sorry she let him keep the housekeeper.

Although Meghan wasn't the type. She was a good kid. A little shy, a little bookish, but good. She was smart as a whip too with English and history. She wasn't a big fan of math, neither was Tara at her age and to this day, but she would do well in almost any field she wanted. Tara hoped Lilly encouraged her enough. She was sure she did, but she just wish she knew. She wish she could see them again, and just them, not the attached and overbearing Phillip Blake who wanted to change Meghan's last name to Blake too. Tara fought with him on that, and thankfully Lilly agreed with her. Chambler was a good name, their father's last name, and Phillip wasn't going to take that away. Not like he'd taken everything else away.

She slipped her badge onto her belt and strolled back to the kitchen, stopping at Carol's bedroom door at the sound of snuffling, and she frowned, continuing to the kitchen as to not let Carol catch her outside her room. She'd let Carol work through the tears alone this time. She seemed to want it that way.

"Here." She set the pants on the counter, which was spotless since they were never here to dirty them. "Smells good in here."

"Thank you. My grandma used to make these for me and my cousins, but you don't have all of the ingredient so it's like the...hillbilly version of it." She pulled down three plates. "Is Carol even going to eat?"

"We'll have to see." She filled three glasses with orange juice. "When we bust into the wine, I'll let you know."

"Good, because I'd rather not camp out here until then." She divided the eggs among the plates.

Carol joined them in the living room once they called to her, and they were glad to see her eat something. She skipped lunch yesterday, and dinner too by crying through most of the night, so it was good to see her eating. She might not eat lunch again today, but she had breakfast. Maybe dinner, if they were lucky. If Tara was lucky, she could have her eat some ice cream. It wasn't a good dinner, but it was food, which was good enough for her. Any food trumped starving yourself.

There was an odd rumbling sound that came from behind the wall, Tara and Carol knew it well, but Rosita frowned and moved away from the couch whereas Tara and Carol hurried to the bathroom. They did the usual check, and the toilet wouldn't flush. The water in the shower was hot enough to cook a frozen turkey even on the lowest levels of hot and cold.

"Great. Just great." Carol returned from the kitchen after learning the sink only shot out ice cold red water. "I hate this apartment."

"How many times does this happen?" Rosita could tell by their general reaction this wasn't the first or second or even third time having this problem.

"Do you mean this week or this month?" Tara grumbled, carrying her and Carol's plates to the kitchen. "I hate this shitty apartment sometimes!"

"Have you told the super?" Rosita collected the cups.

"He says he'll look at it, and he does." Carol arched a brow in annoyance. "He actually looks at it instead of fixing it. We stopped going to him months ago. What we need is to move, or find someone who can actually fix the problem."

"I know a guy." Rosita began to unbutton her pajama shirt. "He fixed my bathroom, and it's been great ever since. I can give you his number."

"That'd be awesome." Tara tossed the pants from the counter at Rosita. "I'd like to call him tonight, if you give me his number."

"It's in my purse. I'll give it to you when we go downstairs."

"How much he is?" Carol had gone to her room to get a shirt for Rosita, having worked out that she would be lending Rosita a shirt as Tara was bustier than them. She didn't mind. Rosita was good at returning clothes. Plus they were cops. They could just track her down and demand she give them back.

"Not much. It depends on what needs done." She slipped her arms through the sleeves and buttoned it up. "He's a little...bit of a creep, but he does good work. He'll probably hit on you—both of you. He's harmless though."

"I'd rather not be hit on anytime soon," Carol murmured.

"I'll take care of it," Tara offered. "I have no life, and you can do my paperwork. How does that sound?"

"A little unfair, because I hate paperwork, but otherwise sure." She smiled. "Thanks."

"What are friends for?"

"Getting coffee and not being late for work," Rosita answered. "You two have an office to search today, remember?"

"Let's get going. We have to talk to Boss before we go." Carol reached over and buttoned the first button Rosita left undone, and Rosita glared. "What? It bothers me."

"What? The unbuttoned button or little cleavage?"

"The first one." She checked her watch. "Okay, we can go now. Don't forget to grab a coffee for me, and I'll pay you back when we meet you on our way out."

"Yeah, yeah."

Tara and Carol slipped out of the apartment, Rosita finished changing and followed behind them, and Tara wondered two things. One was when would she see her sister and niece again, and the other was when Carol would start to get over Shane. She wasn't rushing, but she'd like to know when the hurting phase would end. She could do the anger and the crapping on all things Shane, but the hurting was the worst. Tara hurt at the sight of Carol crying like that, crying in the shower, crying alone before work, so she hoped for Carol's sake it ended soon. Or she might have to find Shane and demanded to know why. She might do that anyway, with Rosita's help. And Aaron. Wait, no, he was on his honeymoon. Damn, and Glenn would be dead on the floor after having a newborn, so it was just Rosita. Hell, she was enough. She had a mean right hook.


	4. Leave

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

They searched Tabby's office, finding pictures of her and her brother all over the room from their childhood. They were as thick as thieves, it would appear, and it made Carol smile. Her heart ached as it reminded her of Shane. Well, more like it reminded her of Shane _and_ Rick, who were like brothers, but they had not one single shared gene. It made her miss him and Rick. She had gotten to know Rick when he came up for a visit, and he was a good man. His wife and their little boy Carl. They were a cute little family, and Carol was grateful to have met them. They were kind to her on holidays when she had nowhere to go.

Her eyes fell on Tara who was sifting through the papers on the desk with furrowed brows, and she smiled to herself. She had her own family now, with Tara, Rosita, those goofballs Glenn and Aaron, and the other detectives. They were good to her from the start, claiming her as their own, and she never felt like a burden or a waste around them. They were her home, and she loved them. They would see her through anything, and Carol felt blessed to have them in her life after being born into a such a shitty family. God had given her this new amazing family, one she had hoped Shane would be apart of till the end of her days—silly and high school as it sounded. Oh, well. There was nothing she could do. It was over.

She bent down to scan the bookshelf, reading over the titles and pulling a few out, flipping through it in case the flyer had been tucked inside the pages of any of the books. She noticed a lot of romance novels that were still new with worn spines, a favorite genre of Tabby's it would appear, and she noticed a few with highlighted sentences. They were mostly cute little ideas to let that special someone know you were thinking about them, like leaving note here and there or a flower under a windshield wiper. Tabby appeared to enjoy the notes, as she'd underlined it twice _and_ highlighted it. Carol had to admit it was a nice idea. Sweet nothings written down in places you look every day. It would cheer anyone up.

"If this woman had anymore flyers for yoga classes, you'd swear she was trying to horde them and force people to attend only one class." Tara stacked them neatly and moved to the drawers, whining at the sight of yet another pamphlet for a yoga class. "I had yoga. I hate neon paper. I hate all of it."

Carol smiled. "Do you want to switch?"

"Sure." She hopped up and over to the bookshelf. "If you get a paper cut, she has tissues. Well, there are tissues on the desk."

"Thanks." She opened the middle drawer, noting the lock had been picked, and she found it was neatly arranged like most items in the house. She suspected the husband had broken into this, to see what his wife was up to, and she found a flyer with a name and number written on the bottom. "Adam Harmon."

"Who?" Tara slipped a book back in place and joined Carol at the desk. "Is this the boyfriend?"

"I don't know, but it's a flyer for an art class. A late one, at that, and look at when it lets out."

"I think we found our boyfriend."

"Let's go say hello to him."

They returned to the station, Tara got the number for Dixon Plumbing, and she decided to give him a call and set up an appointment as Rosita and Carol waited for Adam to arrive. They were going to do the interview while Tara phoned Mr. Dixon and Brian went to pick up the husband again. He was hiding something, they were all sure of it, but they weren't positive it was her murder. It might be the events leading up to her murder instead of the actual event, but it would do.

"Hello?" Tara heard loud music and noise in the background, unsure she'd gotten the correct place. She looked over the business card and then the number displayed on the phone, and they were the same. She suddenly wasn't sure she trusted Rosita's judgement on handymen. She already had no faith in the men she "dated". Why would this be any different? God, this was a mistake, wasn't it?

"How can I help you today?" His voice was rough, like he'd smoked every day since he was four, and there was more than a hint of a Southern accident mixed with a Philly accent. It was interesting, to say the least. Like the background noise, which had yet to die down. Did he work in a bar as well?

"Hey, I'm Tara Chambler. I'm looking for a plumber, and a...possible ex-friend of mine recommended you. I just want to make sure I've called the right place." And not a bar, or auto-shop.

"Yeah, this is the right place." It was a different voice entirely now, a little rougher, a lot more Philly, but gentle, as though he cared about his work and the people he was working for. Her faith in Rosita raised slightly. "What can I help you with?"

"You'll need a piece of paper for all the things going wrong with the plumping in my apartment." He chuckled. "No, I'm being serious."

"All right, no job's too big. It might take some time, but we'll do our best to ensure it's gonna last."

"That'd be great. The last few plumbers I've had over laugh at us and did little patch jobs. We really need this fixed."

"Well, I'd give you our motto, but my brother didn't decide on one." He sighed and cleared his throat. "So, let's just start with the basics. Your name and address."

Tara relayed the information to him, spotting a young man entering the bullpen, and she watched Carol and Rosita greet him, leading him to the interview room. She wished she could sit in on it, but unless she wanted to bath in Satan's asshole—she really, really didn't want to—she had to continue speaking with this guy whose name she didn't know. She had to get his name before this conversation was over, that was for sure.

––

"This is about Tabby," Adam said once in the interview room with Carol and Rosita, hands in his lap, his eyes moving from one cop to the other, "isn't it?"

"Yes, it's about Tabby." Rosita crossed her legs. "How well did you know her?"

He smiled fondly, like a man very much in love. "Pretty well. We—we met on the fifth of January. She wanted to take an art class, and I teach art classes. I used to teach high school art, but the school shut down." He waved that away, not wanting to reopen that wound. "Anyway, she was just a good friend at first."

"So, you're not going to deny being in a relationship with a married woman?" Carol's brows rose.

"No, I'm not." He straightened his spine, almost like he was proud of the affair. "It wasn't a fling, detective. It wasn't an accident. What we have...had was the real thing, that once-in-life-time crap you see on the Hallmark channel. I love her. I still love her, and every day without her feels like...like hell. You can't understand what that feels like."

"Actually, I can," Carol retorted.

"No." He shook his head. "No, you're heartbroken, sure, but not like me. It wasn't the real thing for you and whoever your ex is. It wasn't even close. Trust me, you'll know when it happens. It's...sweeter than anything you've ever experienced, and there's no real way to describe it, but when you feel it—truly feel it—you'll know. I just hope you don't lose it like I lost it."

Rosita saw the pain that flashed in Carol's eyes and cleared her throat to get Adam's attention. "So, if you loved her so much, why not step forward when her body turned up floating in the Schuylkill, her head bashed in?"

Agony filled his hazel eyes, and he swallowed. "I wanted to. I wanted to come down here and demand you arrested her son of a bitch husband for killing her, but her brother told me it was best if I lie low. If I wanted this case to be taken seriously, I should wait until you guys called me."

"Arnold told you to wait?" Carol wanted to clarify this.

He nodded. "Yeah, said they'd paint Tabby as a slut, ruin her name in death, and her case would be thrown to the side. I didn't want that. I want her husband arrested for what he did to her, so I waited."

"What else did Arnold tell you to do?"

"That was all." He saw the theories popping in the detectives' eyes and frowned. "No, you don't understand. Arnold's a good man. He wouldn't hurt anybody, especially not Tabby. They were like twins. They were so close, and they loved each other. He couldn't hurt her, and she couldn't hurt him. They'd been close since their parents died."

"Were you and Tabby planning on leaving Philly?" Rosita changed the subject. "Moving somewhere else perhaps?"

"Well, Tabby didn't want to stay here with her dick of a husband living here, so yeah. We were going to move to New York. She knew business pretty well, and I have money in the bank. We were going to open our own art store." Tears shimmered in his eyes, and he inhaled deeply to regain control of his emotions, but it wasn't working so well. "She—she wanted to start over, with me, and...we were gonna have kids. She was so happy and excited... She could barely keep it a secret."

"Why would she need to keep it a secret?"

"She knew her brother would try and talk her out of leaving, and she didn't want that." He wiped at his eyes. "The day we were going to leave was the day...you found her in the Schuylkill."

"Did she ever get around to telling Arnold of your plan?" Carol inquired.

"Yeah, the night she was killed. She got off work at eight-forty-five, headed over to his place, and she was going home to grab a few things from her office."

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Harmon." Rosita rose. "And I'm sorry for your loss."

"Me too." His eyes moved to Carol, and he smiled somewhat bittersweet. "You're very lucky, detective."

"Why's that?" Carol gathered her notes and closed the file.

"Because you haven't found it yet." His gaze moved to Rosita. "Either of you. Don't let anything happen to it once you have it. The pain and regret... You can't really live with it."

Carol stopped and frowned at his wording. "M—"

"I'll show myself out." He slid by Rosita and was out of the bullpen before they could catch him.

"You don't think he'll do something stupid, do you?" Carol asked Rosita.

"We can't watch him like a hound in case he does," Rosita replied, "but yeah, I do."

"I'm going to try and find him."

"Carol." Rosita grasped her arm. "Don't. It's his life, and I want to drag him in here and cuff him to a desk too, but it's not my place. He has to decide to live, and I know it sounds like shit, and it is shit, but it's the truth."

Her eyes didn't move from the door.

"And he'll likely wait until he has confirmation on Tabby's killer, so let's focus on Arnold. He lied to us—again."

"Third times the charm."

Rosita nodded. "I'll send a couple uniforms to pick him up. The husband oughta be here soon, so why don't you and Tara take him."

"No, I want Arnold. You and Tara talk to the husband."

"I needed four showers to scrub that guy off of me, and all he did was talk to me." Rosita groaned, lips curled in disgust. "Buy me lunch."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't ma'am me. I hate that."

"I know."

––

"Hello again." Tara smirked at the husband, sitting across from him while Rosita hung back in the corner, ready and eager for her role as Bad Cop, and while they weren't her and Aaron, they had their own balance. "How are you today?"

"What is this? An interview, or are you gonna take my lunch order?" His eyes ran over the detective in the back corner. "'Cause I'd take two of her."

"Your wife is dead," Rosita darkly hissed. "Barely a week dead, and you're trying to get into the pants of a detective working her case. Do you know how that looks?"

He sat back, his irritation with them evident on his face, and he scoffed under his breath. "Do you know how it looks that you've had nearly a week and have yet to apprehend the man who killed my wife?"

"Do you want to know the truth?" Rosita pushed off the wall, nearing the table.

"Rosita," Tara gently warned.

He leaned forward and smiled. "Why don't you tell me, cupcake?"

Rosita sneered. "We can pin this on you a hundred times over. You have motive enough to wrap around the Earth four times, and honestly I would love to take you down."

His smile shriveled up. "I didn't hurt her."

"So, the anger management classes you enrolled in at the start of your marriage was what? Extracurricular?"

"I never laid a hand on my wife!"

"Oh, really? Well, who's going to believe you over your dead wife! You've already lied to us, and once the jury knows that you're a lair, it's all over! It'll be orange jumpsuits and shitty prison tattoos for you."

"Rosita!" Tara shot her a glare to back off, and Rosita scoffed and turned away. "What she means is—"

"I never hurt her," he spat. "I didn't hit her or kill her! Yes, we had a rocky marriage, I'll admit that. I'll admit I wasn't a loyal husband or boyfriend, but I would never have hurt her. Tabby was a strong woman, inside and out, and I admire—admired her for it. She didn't want a single cent from me, not any house or summer house. She just wanted her freedom, and I would have given it to her. She—she deserved to be as happy as she was with that art guy all the time."

"You knew about Adam?"

"So, that's his name? Adam?" He sighed. "She didn't tell me, but I knew something happened. It wasn't a baby. We hadn't...been together in that way for almost two years, so it was someone else."

"I find it very difficult to believe you were okay with another man screwing your wife," Rosita declared.

"I was pissed at first, but at the end of the day, I was doing the same thing. Only...she did it better, like everything else. She found the one. I was jealous, pissed, hurt, but... We'd been together for so long, as friends and lovers and man and wife, and the part of me that was still her friend was happy for her, you know? The more she smiled, the more I realized we were holding onto broken pieces of a marriage. We didn't even sleep on the same floor of the house anymore." He shook his head. "And I was waiting for the day she'd say she wanted a divorce. It didn't come...but then it didn't have to, because some...sick fuck killed her."

For the first time since meeting the man, Rosita and Tara finally saw who he was underneath all of the arrogance and the money and the suit. They were surprised there was a human being under there, but here he was. He wasn't their doer. He was just a confused man who genuinely wanted what was best for a woman he cared for.

"Another win of Rositara," Rosita mused.

"Okay, you've got to stop calling us that."

"Please, it's sounds better than Rositaron."

"And stop saying that too." She crossed her arms. "I feel like scum for pushing him so hard."

"We had to push to get the truth out of him." She reached over and set a hand over Tara's. "It's our job to speak for the victims, Tara. It's not always an easy task."

She nodded, grasping her ringer finger between two of her fingers and squeezing them affectionately. "Good work in there." She smiled weakly. "Another win for Rositara."

"C'mon, Chambler. Let's so see how Carol and Brian are doing." She opened the door to observation.

"Why don't they get a name?"

"Because he's not one of us. He's like a rental."

– – –

"What did I tell you, Arnold?" Carol locked her gaze on the man who was fidgeting before her. "If I have to track you down one more time, I'd get suspicious. And guess what? I'm beyond that. I'm beyond suspecting you did this. In fact, I'm right at you did this."

"I—Me? Me? You think I killed her? My own sister?" He scoffed. "You're ridiculous. You can't pin this on her husband, so you'll thrown on me. Lovely. Great police work here."

"You were the last person to see Tabby alive," Brian asserted. "You and only you. Her husband has alibied out."

"He did it! He killed her! He took that golf club and killed her!"

Carol narrowed her eyes, a spark crossing those ocean orbs. "We never said what killed her, Arnold."

"What?" His voice was breathy, like he couldn't inhale or exhale, and a layer of sweat coated his brow. "Yes, you did. You told me the first time you talked to me."

"No. We didn't discuss the murder weapon with you. We simply said cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head. She had no water in her lungs, so she was dead before she was thrown into the Schuylkill."

"What?"

"Why did you kill her?" Brian intertwined his fingers over the file.

"I—I—I—I didn't—kill my sister!" he shouted. "I didn't! I loved my sister! She—she was my best friend, my—my only family! How dare—how dare you say I did this."

"And your only family, your _best_ _friend_ , was about to leave for a new city with the man she loved, not giving you a second thought." Carol locked her gaze on him. "She was going to leave and probably see you only once or twice a year, if she remembered you after she began her own business and family with Adam. In almost every way Adam replaced you, and you were only her brother. That was all. It wasn't enough to stay for. You weren't enough."

He ducked his head and shook it, but it wasn't a denial this time. It was regret. It was terrible, awful, eternal regret, and his defense came tumbling down. His shoulders began to tremble, and it all came spilling out.

Tabby had come to see him after her fight with Joan in the parking lot. She was excited and happy and in love. She was so eager to get out of Philly and start her life over with Adam. She told him all about their plans and how she would finally have the family she'd always dreamed of. She was more alive in that one conversation than he'd ever seen her. Her eyes sparkling and liberated of the sadness that normally hung there. She was truly elated about Adam and their plans.

She had even brought him the gift she was going to give her husband—a set of golf clubs. It was the only thing both her husband and brother enjoyed, and she gave them to him as a parting gift. She didn't need them, and she didn't want to give them to her husband, as he already had plenty. She and Adam both had made him a card, using Adam's art skills, and it was beautiful. She'd said he could come over any time he wanted, and once they were settled and they were ready, he could come over to spend time with their children one day.

"She kept talking about her family," he wept, "but _I_ was her family. For the longest time, it was just me and her, even after she married, but then here comes Adam. He comes in and takes away the last...piece of my family from me. I don't know what happened, something in me just snapped, and—and suddenly Tabby's not telling me about the apartment or the store they'd own. She's on the floor, bleeding, and I—I tried to help her, but it was too late. She was gone."

Carol slid the notepad over to him so he could write out his confession, Tara and Rosita exchanged a glance behind the glass at Arnold's confession, and Brian softly sighed. Once it was all written out, Carol made the arrest, and Brian spoke to Tyreese.

"It's a little scary how many brothers kill their siblings," Tara commented. "If you check out some of those closed files... Phew. I've yet to see a sister kill her sibling, but I don't think I wanna read that. I have a sister, and I'd rather not read a file similar to us."

"I'm an only child, so I wouldn't know about that." Rosita clicked the end of her pen to start her paperwork. "I have a lot of cousins, though I'd probably be the one to kill them, because they're assholes."

"Really?"

"Mostly." She glanced up from her desk. "Why? Do you wanna meet them?"

"I'm good." She sat down. "I was just curious. Also trying to delay the paperwork."

Rosita's lips pulled back in an amused smirk. "It'll still be there."

"Yeah, I know." She grabbed her pen and removed the cap, grumbling under her breath. She hated the paperwork. It was such a pain in the ass. She used to get a cramp in her hand, but she was able to work through it now. Good thing for her tonight.

– – –

Tara hung her coat up and wandered down the hall, hearing a grunt from Carol's room, and she halted. She pushed the door open and found Carol inside in sweatpants and a tank top with an over-sized tan knit cardigan on. She also had a couple bottles of wine Rosita had brought over, a half eaten tub of ice cream and pictures Tara had hidden in the vent in her bedroom. She knew Carol would find them—it was their job, for fuck's sake.

"Carol?"

"Do you remember the trip we took?" She snuffled and wiped at her eye. "It was, what? Four and half years ago?"

"Yeah, I think so."

"Yeah, Shane wanted to go back home for the week, and you had no plans, so you tagged along."

"Carol."

"And you ended up being covered in mud, stung by about ten different bees, got food poisoning, and Shane felt so bad he set you up with his friend Holly. He wanted to do something else, but he'd heard how you weren't dating anybody, and he thought you two would be a good fit."

Tara decided to indulge her. "We were. Well, for about two weeks anyway."

She nodded. "Then you met Denise a while after."

"Yeah." She climbed onto the bed and looked over the pictures Carol had laid out on the bedspread. "Oh, remember that Halloween?"

"No. I was drunk off my ass thanks to someone." She handed Tara her glass of wine, and Tara accepted it, taking a drink. "It's all such a blur. You and Glenn had to peel me off the floor, if I'm remembering correctly."

"That was Aaron."

"Oh, right. Glenn was a zombie, and Aaron was...a vampire?"

"Yeah, that was when Eric forced him to read the Twilight saga and then forced him to be whoever the doctor was while he was the doctor's werewolf lover." She snorted and drank from the glass. "Meghan read those books, and I have no fucking clue what the hell Eric read."

"Eric loves to change things up. I thought it was sweet." She scooped out ice cream and shoveled it down. "I wish I had an Eric."

"I know you're still hurting over Shane, but just because he left doesn't mean you can't have what Aaron and Eric have, or Glenn and Maggie. Or hell what Boss and his wife have. All Shane leaving meant was you deserve someone better."

"I don't want to date anymore." She handed the ice cream over. "I just don't care."

"Lair."

"I'm serious, Tara." She met her eyes. "I've only had two serious relationships, and they've both gone down the drain. With Shane... I thought it'd last. I thought so many things, and I thought we were on the same page, but we weren't! I was dead wrong about everything we had. I can't trust someone else only to get hurt again. I can't."

"You can't know if you'll get hurt."

"Yeah, because my track record is so flawless."

"C—"

"No, Tara, I'm done. It's just not worth it." She slid off the bed. "I'm going to call Rosita over, and we're going to make plans to go out in a couple of weeks when I'm less...like this."

"What do you intend to do in a couple weeks?"

"Get laid? Get drunk off my ass somewhere other than my bedroom? Maybe both." She laughed pitifully. "Or maybe my pathetic ass will drunk call Shane again and hear him with his new girlfriend."

Tara tensed. "W—what?"

"Yeah." She pushed the curls from her face back. "I called him tonight, just to hear his stupid voice on his voice mail. He picked up instead, and I could hear her in the background."

"That doesn't mean they're together. It could have been Lori. Or his aunt."

"He doesn't call Lori or his aunt 'babe'." Tears rose up in her eyes. "He never even called me that."

"Carol, you don't know that he's seeing someone."

"He broke up with me, Tara. Our relationship was already long over for him than it was for me, and given how he broke up with me, it's evident I didn't mean much to him. Maybe this girl was in a relationship, and he was just waiting for her to be single and settled for me in case she was never available."

"He loved you."

"A lot of men claim to love me, but all they do is hurt me!" she snapped. "God, even my own father."

Tara shot off the bed at the mention of the F-word, and she knew how serious this breakdown was. "I love you. Rosita loves you. Glenn, Aaron, Eric, Maggie, Boss—they love you too."

"Yeah, but how long until you get tired of me too?"

"That won't happen!"

"Yes, it will. It always happens. I'm not the kind of person who is loved, Tara! You are. Our friends are! I'm the kind of person who's gonna be all alone for the rest of her life, because that's just the hand I was dealt."

"Don't say that!"

"Why not? Who's it really hurting?"

"Me! You're not gonna end up alone. You're a good person, and you'll find someone better than Shane—better than all the losers you've dated in the past! I know you will, and don't you dare tell me I'll eventually lose you as family! I already lost my sister and niece to that asshole Phillip, and I won't let you pull away over a break up!" Tara shouted. "Don't say we don't care about you! Don't ever fucking say that to me or anybody, because it's not true!"

"You'd be better off if I weren't here."

"No, I wouldn't be. I'd be alone, and I hate being alone, just like you. Don't stand there and act like you're pissed at me or yourself. For the love of God, blame him! He's the one who walked out! He's the one who said he didn't see a future with you anymore! He's the one who couldn't even say why he felt that way! He deserves your anger and your hatred! Him, not the ones who love you and always will!"

"I was pregnant," Carol divulged.

"What?" Tara gaped.

"Or I thought I was. I told Shane that...a week before we broke up. I wasn't pregnant, but I never got to tell him that, because when the results came back, he said we needed to talk. He didn't even ask if I was pregnant or not. He just dumped me and left."

"Oh, God."

"We used to talk about kids all the time, and the second I might actually be having a child, he bails. He fucking bailed, and he's with someone else. Some other woman who he calls babe and laughs with and screws and—I can't even get through a case without some asshole telling me what Shane and I had wasn't real."

"What? Who said that?"

"Adam. He said I was just heartbroken, but it wasn't the real thing, that I'd know it when I had it, which will be never. I'm done with dating. I'm done with getting attached and cut off! My father was right about me, and it's time I actually start listening."

"Listen to that sentence," Tara shot back. "You just said your asshole father was right about you. Carol, he isn't. He's some drunk, piss off, scum of the earth bastard, and you're a homicide detective. You're one of the few female murder cops in Philly. I know it's hard to see the good and the possibilities right now, but don't throw them away because of Shane."

"I just don't understand. I told him all about it, every terrible thing that happened, but a good thing is what scared him off. A thing we both wanted." She shuddered. "If that scared him off, what'll scare off the next one? Or the one after that? It's just not worth it, Tara."

"Don't make any decisions right now. You're not thinking straight."

"You never think straight, and you make decisions all the time."

Tara chuckled. "Shut up and get into bed."

"I don't want to sleep in that bed tonight. Could I sleep with you?"

"Sure, but if I even _think_ I feel your cold ass feet, I'm leaving."

She smiled a little. "All right." She retrieved the ice cream from her room. She didn't know what to say now, so she went for a change in subject. "Did you set an appointment?"

"Yeah, he's coming out tomorrow."

"Good. I'm going to take a bath and finish off the wine tomorrow."

"No. We have to invite Rosita over for dinner, and we'll all finish it off. You can bathe afterward."

She plopped down onto Tara's bed, stirring the soupy ice cream, and she met her roommate's eyes. "I'm sorry about what I said."

"Don't worry about it. Just help me bust up Shane's car, and we'll call it even."

"Okay."

"Seriously?"

"Yep."

Tara grinned. "I'll hold you to that, Peletier." She really was. Shane was already with someone else? His car was going to get destroyed. Rosita's cousins might be able to help. They were strong, and if Tara didn't tell them they were going to dismantle a cop's car, they just might help.


	5. Look

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"Where's Tara?" Rosita walked toward the morgue with Carol. "I haven't seen her yet."

"She's meeting the plumber today. She'll be in tomorrow since virtually everything needs to be fixed."

"Oh, right."

"He won't bug her too much, will he?" Carol reached out and opened the door.

"Do you want me to lie to you?"

"Yeah, that'd be good."

––

"Hey, you're home." Tara smiled broadly, but not in the way she would if their plumbing was fixed. "How was your day?"

"Okay...I guess. We had a double homicide, but..." She paused. "Why are you being so weird? Quit smiling. You're freaking me out."

"I'm just happy to see you."

Carol narrowed her eyes. "What did you do to Shane's car? I was drunk last night, and anything I said or suggested wasn't...a good idea. You know how I get when I drink—"

It was only then that Carol realized why Tara was being so weird and standing so close. The flirty plumber was still here, and Tara must have told him she and Carol were together. They did this when they had a bad date, claiming they were still in the closet and using them to keep their parents happy. Or they wanted an excuse to bail on a blind date, having them rush over and proclaim their love and how their breakup was a mistake. It was terrible, but it worked. Expect for the creepy ones who wanted to have a three way, and then they had to get a bit forceful with their rejection.

It would appear Rosita was right about the plumber and his advances, because this was a desperate times call for desperate measures kind of thing. Carol wasn't in the mood to play along, but Tara had gotten her out of some shitty dates, so she owed her. Besides if she did this, it might spare Shane's stupid car. He didn't deserve it, but she couldn't let Tara and Rosita's cousins she'd rope into helping her get in trouble.

"I'm hungry. What do you want for dinner?" She set her keys and bag on the table, digging her phone out of her pocket. "We could go out to the restaurant where we spent our anniversary, or we could order in and just...stay in bed."

Tara moved closer and lowered her voice, "I know we're pretending, but if that restaurant's on the table, we'll go there right now and let him let himself out."

"It was a two hour wait. Not happening."

The bathroom door that was beside the couch closed—they had two doors for some reason, one by the front door and one in the living room—and he stood in his uniform, watching the two women. Carol smiled politely at the man, and he nodded his chin silently. He called to Tara to discuss the bill and what he'd need to finish the kitchen.

Carol caught his name while they spoke and removed her jacket. She saw he was about to leave. "Thanks for this, Merle. Have a good night."

"You too."

"Thank God." Tara closed the door and hugged Carol. "I cannot thank you enough for that."

"Yeah, yeah, just let me order dinner. I'm starving."

"Tell me about the case when you're done."

"Rosita can. She's on her way over anyway. I want that wine out of the house tonight." She dropped onto the couch and called their usual place, unzipping her boots.

"Did you call Shane again?" Tara squinted at her roommate. "Carol Peletier."

"No, I didn't call him." She averted her eyes.

"Did you see him?"

"Maybe."

"Carol, we talked about this."

"He didn't see me. I just wanted to know if it was true, if he was seeing someone, but all I saw was him and Rick." She held a finger up and placed their order, watching Tara roll her eyes and shake her head disapprovingly, and Carol ended the call. "I know. I'm an idiot, but I was just curious. It can't hurt more than it already does."

"Trust me, it can."

Carol heaved a sigh and hopped up to change. She wrapped herself in her favorite tan knit cardigan, curling up on the couch, letting Tara answer the door when the food came and Rosita showed herself in, having a spare key. They weren't sure if they'd given it to her, or if she'd had one made. It wouldn't be hard for her to flirt the spare off their super, if they were being honest. He really was the worst at his job. Good God.

"How bad was he?" Rosita crossed her legs underneath her, squeezing in the small space between Tara and the arm of the couch, stirring her noodles with her chopsticks.

"It wasn't too bad at first, but then he pretty much asked if I wanted to jump in the sack, and I had to let him know I played for the other team. Thank God Carol came home when she did." Tara tugged her t-shirt sleeves up, propping her feet on the coffee table, and she drank from her wine glass. "I was tempted to stay in the kitchen and just shout to him."

"Did he fix your problem at least?"

"Yeah, the shower's running better than it ever has." Carol mirrored Rosita on the other side of Tara, nibbling on the stem of a broccoli. "He's coming back to work on the kitchen, but he thinks he'll need to order a part for...something."

"It could take a week or two to get here," Tara added. "Which is okay with me. We never use the kitchen."

"Clearly. The take out guy knows you by name." Rosita reached over into Tara's container for a piece of shrimp.

"Okay, I can't keep it a secret," Tara blurted. "Carol went to see Shane."

"What?!" Rosita nearly dropped her chopsticks. "You did what?"

Carol sent her partner a foul glare. "I hate you."

"What? I don't like secrets, and you need to be lectured. Rosita's better at it than I am anyway."

"Carol, why would you willingly go and see that bastard?" Rosita demanded then at Tara, "I thought we agreed after the phone call, we were going to watch Carol."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, you told her about the phone call too?" Carol exclaimed. "What the hell, Tara? You're my supposed to be my best friend, not my mother!"

Tara didn't respond so much as shovel in her dinner.

"Forget Tara. Why are you doing this?" Rosita searched her eyes. "Is it because of what Adam told us?"

"No." She slammed the takeout container down onto the coffee table and stood up. "No, I called Shane, because I missed him and his voice. I was with him for three years, and it's like you both expect me to roll out of bed yesterday and be over him!"

"We don't expect that," Rosita protested. "It's going to take time. I know that. I've been there."

"With a married man!" Carol retorted. "It was obvious he wasn't going to leave his wife for you. We told you to be careful, because it was going to end. Shane wasn't like Abe, okay? What we had wasn't like you and Abraham!"

"Why? Because we didn't spend every second of every day together? Because we could control ourselves in public? Because we weren't like two horny, idiotic teenagers? Because we didn't hold hands and call each other and hug every time we saw each other?" Rosita hissed. "Is that how those relationships weren't alike? Because guess what, Carol? They _both_ ended."

Carol clenched her jaw. "You and Abraham were a joke. He was a sleazeball. He had kids and a wife! What the hell were you thinking? You deserved better than him!"

"Oh, here we go again! Okay, Abe wasn't all that great, but at least he wouldn't have bailed on me if I was pregnant!"

"You and Abe didn't plan on having kids! You didn't talk about it or want it!"

"How the hell do you know what I wanted with him? With our relationship?"

"It wasn't a relationship, Rosita. It was an _affair_!"

"You know what? I'm glad Shane's gone! He would have hurt you eventually, and I'm glad he did it sooner rather than later! At least you're not saddled with kids who have to spend every other weekend with Daddy while Mommy cries into her eggs!"

"Guys," Tara tried to intervene, break it up before they dug their claws into each other any further, but they both ordered her to shut up.

"It's actually a marvel how you didn't get knocked up," Rosita chuckled humorlessly. "Considering how reckless you and Shane were. Ever heard of birth control? Or _any_ control? No wonder you've been so bitchy when you're used to getting some every single day."

"Are you serious right now? You go home with a different guy every night!"

"I actually don't!"

"I'm not calling you a slut, but you _do_ get around. I was with one guy, and honestly Shane and I weren't that bad."

"Not like me and my men, right?"

"I just said I wasn't calling you a slut!"

"Yeah, your mouth says that, but not your eyes." She scoffed. "Fuck you, Carol. I'm not sorry Shane's gone, and I'm not sorry for anything I said."

"Get out."

"Gladly."

"Rosita." Tara tried to catch her before she was out in the hall, but she met a slamming door. "Carol."

"Good night." She slammed her bedroom door shut and dug the heels of her hands into her eyes, crying softly, and it wasn't about Shane this time.

Tara sighed and knocked her head twice against the door. "Son of a bitch."

––

For the next two weeks, Carol and Rosita didn't speak to each other. They closed their cases, but they didn't look or even acknowledge each other more than they had to. They kept it professional. Tara tried to make them talk and work toward an apology from both sides; however her efforts were fruitless as Carol had dug into Rosita's old wound: Abraham.

Rosita had been young when she met him. He had come to the academy for some reason or another, clothed in his military uniform, and Rosita went after him. She didn't know about Ellen and the kids until later, but by that point, it was too late. She was in love. Tara and Carol and Glenn and Aaron tried to talk her out of it, but to no avail. She and Abraham continued their affair for about two years, and then Ellen found out. He stayed with his wife for his children's sake, and it was a nightmare for Rosita. That was the relationship that made her say fuck relationships. She blamed herself and stopped trying to make relationships work.

They all knew better than to bring it up, no matter what, but Carol had. She said all the things she'd told Tara when they were still together, and it was plain it had stung. Rosita didn't like to relive those memories, and Carol made her. Rosita wasn't going to let that go, just like Carol wasn't going to forgive Rosita for what she said about Shane. The bullpen wasn't a good place to linger in these days.

Today was the first week with Glenn and Aaron back from baby duty and the honeymoon, and it wasn't going to be a fun return. They had talked about going out to dinner and getting drinks before Carol and Rosita attacked each other. Those plans were out the window and smashed flat as a pancake by the speeding cars.

Aaron entered the bullpen and was met with a shit load of tension, and he frowned, seeing Rosita furiously written out a report and Carol at the murder board, looking over the crime scene, and Tara was sitting at her desk, praying for peace, he assumed.

"Am I in the right place?"

"Aaron." Tara shot out of her seat and hugged him. "You're back!"

"Yeah. Back to what, though?" he whispered.

"Hell. You're in Hell now." She kept her voice low. "It happened."

"You mean...?"

"Yep."

"Great."

"Aaron." Carol embraced him. "It's good to have you back. How was the honeymoon?"

"Don't tell her. She'll fixate on the details and never let go," Rosita muttered, nearly snapping the tip of her pen signing the report.

"It was fine," Aaron said before anyone else could speak. "I brought you some gifts, but I left them at home. Eric wants to have you all over for dinner tonight."

Tara soundlessly whined. A whole dinner? With all of them? Fuck. This was going to be Hell in an apartment. Ugh! Damn you, Eric!

"I can't make it tonight." Carol folded her arms loosely over her stomach. "I have plans."

"With who?" Rosita inquired. "Shane's voice mail? What could you possible do with such a short message all by your lonesome?"

Carol didn't acknowledge her. "I'll call him later and explain."

Aaron nodded and cut a look at Tara, and she nodded, mouthing _two weeks_ , and he wanted to leave. Rosita and Carol could fight for months and never reconcile. They were just such pigheaded people, and they could hurt each other so bad. It would take a damn miracle for them to apologize to each other. Lovely.

"Where's Glenn?" Aaron set his bag on his desk.

"He'll be in soon." Tara held out the case file. "Here, we only have one body so far, but we suspect there'll be more."

"Nancy Byers was found nude and shot in her bathroom yesterday," Carol informed him. "The word look was written in her lipstick on the mirror. We found a partial print on the tube, but no matches so far."

"It wasn't the victim's?"

"No."

He nodded, running his eyes over the photos. "Was she posed?"

"Why do you ask?" Tara glanced at him.

"She just looks... I dunno." He pursed his lips. "Let me think on it before I toss a theory out, okay?"

"Sure."

"It's not like we've come up with anything." Rosita leaned back in her chair. "It's good to have a fresh pair of eyes."

"Let's just hope they do us some good." He laid the pictures out on his desk and gazed them, seeing something familiar there.

Tyreese emerged from his office, hands in his pocket, and he looked over the faces of his team. He'd seen and felt and heard the tension between Carol and Rosita, the two bickering like school children over men and coffee and every little thing they could. He had never heard Rosita speak so violently in Spanish before, and he'd never heard Carol snap back just as quick. He knew Carol didn't speak Spanish, but by the tone Rosita spoke it, it was obvious what she was saying. He had to break them up more than once, and he felt for Tara. She was often playing the role of the middle child, the role Glenn or Aaron took on when the girls fought with each other. Now that Glenn and Aaron were back, the middle child role would be filled by all three, because Carol and Rosita wouldn't patch things up without one hell of a shove. A shove none of them could provide.

About an hour later, Glenn joined them with a handful of pictures of the baby and Maggie for his desk, Carol and Tara and Rosita were on it like white on rice, Tyreese and Aaron both chuckled, but the peace didn't last long when Carol and Rosita both reached for a picture of little Lauren after her first bath at home. Glenn's smile died at their reaction to nearly touching the same item, and he picked up on the tension they emitted twofold now.

"Bet you miss the screaming baby right about now," Tara whispered to him.

"It's August, but it feels like December in here." He frowned. "What the hell happened?"

" _It_ happened," Aaron murmured on his way to get coffee.

"Are you serious?" He looked at Tara. "Carol brought _him_ up?"

"Yeah, and Rosita did what she does best."

"Great, if this keeps up, we'll be investigating their homicides." He dropped into his chair. "Damn."

"Welcome to my life for the past two weeks." She handed him the pictures back. "At least you don't live with one of them."

"Can we do anything to make this better?"

"Nope." Aaron stopped by his desk. "Don't even try. They'll attack you. I tried, and I think if looks could kill...my entire life would have been wiped off the face of the world. Death would be too easy, no the look they gave me would have erased me. Sort of a more terrifying version of Harry Potter's obliviate."

"So much for good to be back."

"Again, welcome to my world for the past two weeks, and by the way when it's lunch time, don't ask them what they want. Don't even look at them. It'll be a bloodbath, and I refuse to relive that. Poor Brian." He likely wouldn't ever offer to fill in for them again. God, that poor bastard. He didn't deserve that.

– – –

"I need a favor." Carol stood in Tara's doorway the following morning. "It's important."

"What?" She tossed a change of clothes on the bed.

"I need to see a doctor."

"What? Are you okay? Are you dying? Is it cancer?" She had closed the space between them in a single step, was holding Carol at an arm's length and was studying her closely. "Is it cancer?"

"No, no, it's not cancer. I'm all right. It's just...something I need to have looked at. It's nothing major. Well, probably."

"Probably?" Tara cried. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm not a doctor. I don't know what exactly is wrong. Look, I'll try to be quick, but if I'm not...we'll miss Merle, and we can't afford to miss him. He finally has that part, and I need to be able to have a real home cooked meal."

"Oh. Oh, come on, Carol, no!"

"Please! There's nobody else I can ask. Glenn has to watch the baby, Aaron and Rosita are going to speak to the victim's family again, and you're the only one left. Please."

"Fine, but you have to promise to try and reconcile with Rosita."

"After what she said to me?"

"Carol, you know you weren't the victim of that fight. Nor was Rosita. You both went too far."

"I'll consider it, but I make no promises."

"Dude, the deal was you'd promise to think about it and try."

"I can't promise anything."

"You know what? That's fine. I have to get ready to deal with pervy Merle who I'm pretty sure said something about me being a lesbian, but I can't prove it. Besides he does good work, and if our plumbing fails us like it always does, I want to be able to call him again."

"I'm gonna head out now." She offered a parting smile.

Tara sighed and changed into her work clothes, brushing her hair back into a ponytail. She could handle Merle. She was a member of PPD, and she could handle one creep. If she couldn't, she could always screw around on her phone, try to soften up Rosita. It wouldn't do much to actually soften Rosita, but she could say she tried. It was more than Aaron or Glenn had tried. Even Boss couldn't get them to talk to each other politely, and he was literally the boss!

A knock on the door caught her attention, and she whined softly. Merle was early. Son of a bitch. She hadn't prepared herself for this. Oh, well. She could wear a fake face better than anyone. She had to sometimes to con criminals.

She pulled the door open to find some other guy there in a white t-shirt, a leather jacket and black pants. "I think you have the wrong place."

"Tara?" His voice was familiar.

"I talked to you on the phone," Tara recalled. "I never got your name though." She'd meant to, but by the time she'd listed all their issues, she'd forgotten to ask, and he was overwhelmed with writing it all down.

"Oh, it's Daryl."

"Hi, Daryl." She shook his hand. "What are you doing here?"

"Merle's sick, and he couldn't make it. He wanted to delay it, but I felt bad 'cause I'm the one who messed up and ordered the wrong thing in the first place. I'm real sorry about that. I decided to come here myself and sort out your plumbing problems. I can fix the problem in ten minutes."

Tara smiled. "Ten minutes?"

"Okay, probably twenty, but it's been a while. I only helped my brother out now and then, so I'm a little rusty. Uh, I do good work though."

"Daryl, you had me at 'Merle's sick'." She stepped aside. "But if you try anything, know I can kick your ass. I am a cop."

"I know. Merle told me. You live here with your girlfriend." He scanned the oddly arranged living room and blinked. Who the hell designed this place?

"Yeah, me and my 'girlfriend'." She showed him to the kitchen. "She's out right now, but she'll be glad to know you fixed this up. She's been itching to cook a homemade meal."

"She cooks?" He removed his jacket and bent down.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Nothin'. I'm just a fan of eatin'." He smirked at her. "I'll get this fixed and be outta your hair soon. You probably have to work."

"I do, but take your time. There are other murder cops, you know."

"Right."

Tara stepped back to let him work and checked her watch. Eh, what could happen in her absence?

––

"We have another body?" Carol and Tara exclaimed, having gotten in at the same time, and they were met with their team brainstorming.

"Yeah, and a new word." Glenn held the picture of it out to them. "Listen."

It was written on the bedroom wall in black marker. The victim had been found in a sleeping bag, shot through the heart, and there was a match on the partial from the tube of lipstick to the marker cap. They didn't know who it belonged to, but it was the same person. They were on the hunt, and they had a message for the world. One the detectives had yet to piece together.

"Who was our victim?" Carol looked over the crime scene photos.

"Markus Wheeler." Aaron was perched on the edge of his desk, reading over the victim's background from the tablet the department had bought them. One single i-Pad. How lucky were they. "Twenty-six like Nancy, and there's a connection beyond age."

"And what's that connection?" Rosita lifted her gaze from the murder board.

"They went to school together. He was on the football team."

"And she was cheer captain?" Tara guessed.

"No, that was Liz Tucker from the photo, but Nancy was captain of the dance team."

"What, this person's going after captains?"

"Markus was just on the team. He wasn't the captain."

"There could be another theme," Glenn remarked. "You have a football player and a member of the dance team. What comes to mind when you hear those two things?"

"Preppy, rich, ass-kissing teenagers?" Rosita offered.

"Carol?" Glenn turned to her.

"Popularity," she suggested.

"Exactly, and who is a running theme with popular kids?"

"Being assholes." Carol walked over to the murder board. "Bullying kids who are seen as outcasts and strange. The black sheep of high school."

"You mean you in high school?" Rosita teased, forgetting their argument for half a second.

"Yeah, and I was bullied," Carol shot back, and Rosita averted her eyes. "Maybe our doer was too. Severally bullied, and he or she wanted payback."

"They could have felt their voice, their cries for help, were ignored," Glenn continued, holding up the picture with listen on it. "Nobody would listen to them, or help them."

"That would make anyone feel inferior and...invisible." Tara pointed to the picture with look written on it. "They're sick of it."

"We can't question the entire graduating class," Aaron argued. "Do you know how large that class was? Or—or how long its been since they were even in school? Most of them could have moved away."

"So we question the friends." Rosita folded her arms. "Girls travel in packs, and boys are rarely alone. They might remember a girl or boy that took a lot of heat from those two."

"Nancy had a yearbook," Tyreese pointed it out among her other belongings. "We'll see who she hung with then call them in."

"Great, Boss. I didn't need to see my husband or eat a real meal." Aaron set the tablet down. "I'll take Nancy's friends."

"Me too." Rosita walked over to him. "I have a way with popular kids."

"Because you were one." Tara tossed an arm over Carol's shoulder. "What do you say, partner? Wanna suffer through talking to a lot of former jocks?"

"No, I don't want anything to do with the talks." She shrugged her arm off. "I'll talk to the coroner and try to run the fingerprint again. If you have too many people to interview, give me a call."

They watched Carol peel out of the bullpen, not looking back even once, and Tara frowned, not sure what that was about. She knew everything about Carol. Sure, there were things Carol didn't tell her, and there were things Tara hadn't told Carol, but not once she ever seen that reaction out of her. She would rather have her teeth be pulled than to talk to a couple of twenty-somethings. What the hell happened to Carol in high school? She was bullied, as she'd told Tara a long time ago and told the team just now, but how bad had it been for Carol to utterly refuse to speak with kids who were once bullies?

"Rosita, Aaron, you handle Nancy's friends, and Glenn and Tara, you handle Markus's. I'll have a word with Peletier." Tyreese followed after Carol, catching her in the elevator. He slapped a hand over the door to keep it from shutting, and she jumped, moving back to let him inside. "Where's the fire?"

"I'm sorry, Boss, but we might have missed vital details—"

"Cut the bullshit, Peletier. I know your life." He met her eyes. "At least what I read of it."

She leaned back against the wall, hugging herself tightly. "I don't want to talk about it, Boss. It's in my past, but it's not at the same time."

"I know. I have my own baggage too."

"Please don't make me talk to them."

"I'll try not to, but you need to understand that we're a team. When one of us is suffering, we all suffer. Right now we're all out of sync, because you and Rosita are trying to verbally kill each other."

She lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Boss. It's...complicated."

"It's about Shane and Abraham." Her head snapped up, eyes round and surprised, and he chuckled. "You all do realize I have ears? And I didn't get this job because I'm a cool guy and have a smooth, soulful voice."

She gave a weak laugh. "Right, sorry, Boss."

"Don't be sorry," he softly instructed, "just do better."

She nodded in understanding. "I'll try to do better."

He closed the space between them and set a hand on her shoulder. "No man is worth losing your friends, or in your case, your family. Shane was a good one, but you know what?"

"What?"

"There's an even better person out there for you and for Rosita. You guys just don't see that right now, but you will. Trust me, I know."

She blinked hard to keep from crying and grinned at him. "Thanks, Boss."

"It's my job to keep the peace and the flow of this team, so get your ass in gear, Peletier." He paused. "And don't ever mention that to anybody."

She laughed and nodded again, feeling better than she had since her fight with Rosita. She'd been so angry with Rosita that she'd subconsciously channeled her feelings for Shane and the break up at Rosita. She needed to apologize, but only when she felt Rosita was ready to meet her halfway. Otherwise she'd get pissed and it'd renew their fight.


	6. Learn

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"I forgot to ask." Carol stood in front of the bathroom mirror, scrubbing the catfish she'd had for dinner off her teeth, and she spat into the sink. "How bad was it?"

"It wasn't." Tara was sitting on the toilet with the seat down, brushing the grime off her teeth from the greasy mess she'd consumed. It was supposed to be a cheeseburger, but apparently cheese in that restaurant was spelled G-R-E-A-S-E. She wouldn't be going back. "He—hold on." She spat the toothpaste out and continued. "He was sick, so he sent a someone else to fill in for him. He was a nice guy."

"That's good." She rinsed her toothbrush off and tossed back a cup of mouthwash, sitting on the edge of the tub and swishing it around in her mouth.

"Yeah, I think you'd like him," Tara innocently commented. "He was even attractive."

Carol could only glare.

"It was just an idea. You mentioned getting laid." She returned to brushing her teeth.

Carol hopped up and spat out the mouthwash, inhaling as the burning liquid left her mouth, and she fanned her tongue. "I swear that burns off a layer of flesh."

"Then stop buying it."

"No, I've always used it." She pulled out the floss and retook her seat on the edge of the tub.

"Which is why you should change it up a little." She cleaned her toothbrush off and poured herself a cup of acidic mouthwash. "Seriously, like Rosita said: live a little."

"I've been single for two and a half weeks. Let me mourn the last three years of my life a tad longer."

"Fine."

Carol paused. "How attractive?"

Tara evilly smirked and sucked down the mouthwash.

"I hope it hurts." She smiled at Tara checking her phone to ensure the allotted time had passed and groaning when it hadn't.

– – –

Glenn brought the coffees today, they paid him for them, digging into their own little addictions, and they started fresh on the friends they had yet to talk to. Apparently there were levels of friendship among these kids, and the ones they'd talk too weren't privy to the knowledge they needed. They had gone through the people who were practically their slaves, people who were able to attend birthday and slumber parties and now they hoped the group remaining knew who Nancy ragged on.

As for Markus, well, it was a hot mess. A lot of the team didn't really know him, said he kept to himself, and they used to tease him a little, but it was 'all in good fun'. Markus didn't appear to have a single good friend on the team, and he might have only been there to get through college, which wasn't so surprising. College was a bitch to pay for. Sports scholarships went a long way if you were good, and Markus was good, just not good enough to be friends with the rest of the team, as they all bitterly stated. The man was dead, and they were still bitter over high school sports. Damn.

"That's the last time I eat at a restaurant Aaron suggests." Tara could still taste the cheeseburger if she burped, and it was disgusting. "And I'm not talking to another girl with Glenn there. They keep flirting, and we're getting nowhere. This is exactly why I wanted to look into Markus."

"We ran out of people to interview for Markus," Glenn reminded her. "It'll end soon."

"God, where's Carol when you need her?" She smiled apologetically at Glenn. "Sorry. I'm just used to it being her and me."

"Don't mention it. I've grown accustomed to getting no sleep and having to drink four cups of coffee to keep from passing out."

"If you want a babysitter, just call your sister-in-law."

"I wanted to, but she has exams coming up. She wants to be a vet like Hershel, and I'd feel bad if she failed her classes, because she was babysitting and not studying."

"You had to talk Maggie out of it, huh?"

"For an hour."

She chuckled. "I can show you a few things that used to help Lilly with Meghan, if you want."

"I'd pay you at this point."

"I'll drop by on my way home."

"If I had the energy, I'd hug you." He lifted his head. "Let's go talk to Missy."

"God, it's like waking into _Bring It On_." She moaned and dragged herself behind Glenn to the interview room.

Carol entered the bullpen with a file in hand, and she saw a line of women sitting and hovering in the break room, and she cringed. She didn't want to touch any of that. She hoped her team didn't mind if she ducked out. She did have actual work to do, and they were better suited to handle these ladies. She didn't want to dig up the scars of her childhood, and being around them would be like picking up the shovel. First Shane breaking up her and then his possible girlfriend, and now this? No, she couldn't tolerate the world and the shit storm it was throwing at her. Fuck this.

She headed into Boss's office as he wasn't in, and she sat down, proceeding with her work and avoiding the former cheerleaders in the next room. It somewhat worked in high school, and it had to work now. She wasn't an awkward, clumsy fourteen-year-old anymore with acne and big hair and secrets. She was a slight clumsy twenty-eight-year-old detective with big hair she learned how to tame and style, and she was sort of attractive. She didn't have the confidence Rosita had, or the humor and charm Tara had. She was just Carol, and just Carol couldn't handle that group. Call her a wimp, oh well. She wasn't dealing.

"You hiding too?"

She gazed up at Rosita who entered and sat in the chair beside her. "Why would you be hiding?"

"Because if I have to talk to one more cheerleader who feels the need to ask me why I'm in a dingy little police station when I could be a lawyer or a judge or a model or a doctor, I'm going to hurl myself out a window." She grasped her pen. "I still have interview reports to fill out, so I'm in the clear."

"They kept asking why you weren't married, didn't they?" Carol peeked at her over her own work.

"Yep." She huffed. "I'm sick of repeating why I don't believe in marriage."

"You don't believe in marriage?"

"Do you have any idea how many married men hit on me?" She didn't look at Carol. "And I was in a relationship with one, so nope. I don't believe in marriage or vows or relationships."

"What if...like Adam says you find the one?"

"Then the one will have to understand. I won't change myself to appease someone else." She glanced at Carol. "Not even a friend."

"No one's asking you to change," Carol shot back.

"You still judge me for being involved with a married man, and I know it, Carol. Aaron feels the same way."

"I don't judge you for being with a married man," Carol amended. "I judge _him_ for stepping out on his wife."

"With me."

"No, it doesn't have anything to do with you. I just can't stomach men who can't be loyal. They made a vow, they proposed, but they step out? They turn to someone else and why? No one is forcing them to be in this marriage, just divorce your wife instead of dragging her through affair after affair." Her tone was sharp, her past brimming just underneath. "He had kids. I don't get how someone could do that to their children—a life they helped to create! It pisses me off."

"I didn't ruin their marriage. He's still with Ellen and the kids. I'm sure they went through and still are going through marriage counseling, but they're together. The kids are happy. Calm down."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"After our fight, I got curious about him again."

"Did you screw him in the coffee shop bathroom, or in his car?"

"Neither. I passed by Becca's school, saw them there. I didn't mean to drive by, not really, but I found myself there. They're still together, and the kids look pretty happy." That was one thing Abraham was good at; keeping Becca and A.J happy and healthy. He loved those kids. She was glad they were holding together for their kids' sake.

"Great, now you're stalking him."

"Says the woman who calls her ex on someone elses phone just to hear his voice mail," Rosita snapped. "Shane moved on. You should too."

"I wish I could just move on!" Carol slapped the file in her hand down on the desk in front of her. "I wish I could go out tonight and meet someone and forget all about him, but I can't. That isn't who I am. I'm not the type of person who moves on a couple weeks later. And I know you're sick of hearing— _I'm damn sick of saying it_ —but Shane was the man I thought would be my last everything. I thought we'd get married and have kids and all of that stupid shit you don't want! Or believe in! I can't just get over that like someone gets over a cold! You don't know how difficult it is for me to say I love him, how long it took me to get there, how long it took me to fully trust him! You don't know anything about him or us, and don't you dare act like you do!"

"You didn't know shit about me and Abraham! And you didn't even care to ask!" Rosta roared. "I happened to love him too, and yeah, I'll admit it was stupid— _I_ was stupid—but I learned my lesson. Trust me on that."

"You couldn't have seriously thought you and Abe had a chance."

"So what if I did?" Rosita glared. "I told you I was stupid. I was young and in love and foolish. I ignored the warnings from everybody, and I made an idiot of myself. Is that what you want to hear? You were right. I was wrong."

"I don't give a damn about being right! I just want you to put yourself in my shoes for one goddamn minute! You want me to get over Shane, okay. I get that. But it's not that easy!"

"Why should I put myself in your shoes when you wouldn't try and put yourself in my shoes seven years ago? If you take away Ellen and the kids, it's no different than you and Shane."

"But you can't take away Ellen and the kids!" Carol shouted, her anger seeping into her chest, and she glared daggers at Rosita. "You knew what you were getting into when you began to date Abraham. You knew about the kids and the wife."

"Not at the start!"

"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you? You kept the affair going!"

Rosita growled. "And you knew there was always a chance you and Shane weren't going to make it." Her onyx eyes reflected Carol's glower. "Stop acting like you two were soul mates, like you two were the perfect couple."

"I'm not."

"Yes, you are." Rosita rose out of her seat and placed her hand on her hip. "You and Shane were cute, I'll give you that, but you weren't all that great. You weren't even a good match! Half of the things you liked, he hated and vice versa. You two weren't living together for that exact reason. Your relationship had an experiation date, and yeah, I know that's hard to swallow, but at least it wasn't too late when it ended."

"Too late? I love him, Rosita."

"But you weren't married to him, or engaged to him or pregnant by him. You still can have a life and find someone better than that asshole who ditched you in a three sentence conversation." She blew out a sigh. "I'm not saying get over him right now. I'm not saying you don't deserve time to heal and move on. I'm just saying Shane wasn't the guy you made him out to be, and love does that. That's why I don't get involved anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Sex and dinner is fine, but the rest of it? Living together, meeting the parents, marriage? I'll pass."

"No, the part about Shane not being who I made him out to be."

"Shane's a good guy, a good cop, but he wasn't that amazing. He didn't cheat on you or anything like that. He just wasn't that great."

"No one is."

Rosita reached out and hugged her. "Don't say that."

"Why? You do."

"Yeah, but you're not me. You deserve all of that happily ever after crap, and I want to see you have that, so don't say that." She squeezed her. "And I'm sorry—for all of this."

"It wasn't your fault. You didn't make Shane leave." She dropped her head on Rosita's shoulder. "And I'm sorry too. I don't get what you and Abe had, but it's not my place to say it wasn't love or real."

"It wasn't love," Rosita corrected. "Not for him anyway."

Carol gripped her tighter. "Fuck him. I love you."

"Yeah," she pulled back to look at her face and stroked her hair, "but you're not my type."

"That hurts."

She laughed. "Sorry, but it's true. If I was drunk, maybe, but then again I wouldn't want to ruin our friendship."

"I think sober us does that well enough already."

"That's very true."

She grasped her forearms and squeezed. "I love you, Rosita. More than I could ever love Shane, and I'm sorry for all my comments."

"Me too." She smiled. "So, wanna help me blow this case wide open?"

"Let's show them how it's done."


	7. Victim No Longer

_A/N: In honor of The Walking Dead returning, a chapter._

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

Through the many, many, many interviews and conversations with the first two victims' friends and families and former classmates, they found who could be their perp. They could cross out a couple who had either left the state entirely after graduating, or who had committed suicide, and they left only one option, if they were correct. A Molly Chase. She was year younger than Markus and Nancy, and she was bullied to the point of her mother pulling her out of school.

Molly didn't have a good life in or out of high school. When she was seventeen, she tried to kill herself in her bedroom closet by hanging herself. Her mother found her, and they were able to save her. She spent a couple months in the hospital after that, and she was mentally unstable. They didn't want to release her, rather move her to an institute where she could try and recover. Her mother wasn't able to complete the process as Molly ran away when she was eighteen. Her mother hasn't seen her since.

On top of that, Molly's kept a low profile for the last seven years. She didn't have any paper trail or anything. No social media accounts, no address apart from her mother's old home, no cell phone or anything. She was a ghost, which made tracking her damn near impossible. Their job just got much more difficult as they had no idea who she'd kill next or where she was holding up. They had a who and a why, but no where, no when. The only thing they could say with certainty was: her next victim was in extreme danger.

"Okay, so what do we do? What's our next step?" Aaron ran a hand over his hair. "Because we have one suspect we can't seem to track down, and an endless list of potential victims."

"We asked all the friends of our victims if there was someone else who was particularly harsh to Molly, but they didn't see it as bullying." Carol rolled her eyes. "They said it was "harmless help"."

"They were bitches, lying to try and make their actions seem less terrible." Rosita glanced at Boss to see if he'd scold her for her...colorful choice of words.

"We need a new angle, to try and find out who could be next." Glenn paced the length of his desk. "There has to be someone else who will tell us about the bullying."

"Her mother wouldn't tell us anything." Tara leaned against the wall, stirring her coffee. "She doesn't want to believe her child was capable of murder."

"No one does." Carol closed her eyes. "We should talk to the principal, maybe a few teachers."

"Why would they admit one of their students was severely hazed?" Aaron propped his head on his knuckle. "It's not something you want to let be known."

"They would have known," Carol replied softly. "They would have had Molly's mom in their faces, demanding to know why this hasn't stopped prior to her pulling Molly out of that school. They may know if another student was bullied as badly."

"They do promote anti-bullying." Rosita studied Carol's face and wondered just how bad she got it while in high school. "They don't even do it a little. They go all out. Posters, assemblies, announcements, punishment even. You can get ALC and ISD and suspension."

"Okay, I'll call in the principal then." Glenn sank down into his chair. "I just have to get out of here by six, so one of you will have to interview him."

"I'll do it." Carol opened her eyes and walked over to the murder board, studying the class picture they'd pinned up. "I'll take him."

"Aaron will do the interview with you," Tyreese added. "Rosita, Tara, why don't you call the teachers? I only want the one that retired brought in. The others you can talk to over the phone."

They began their individual tasks, Aaron called the former math teacher, Rosita took the gym and all the science teachers, and Tara worked on the English and history teachers. Carol was staring at the picture, leaving Glenn to get a hold of the teachers left behind, and the team began to wonder what exactly Carol was hiding from them. All but Tara, that was.

––

The principal came in at five, Rosita ducked out to grab food, Aaron and Carol conducted the interview, and Glenn finished up his phone call, going for the history teacher who taught on only war. Tyreese looked in on Peletier and Raleigh.

"Mr. Parker," Carol spoke first, "do you remember a former student of yours—?"

"I have had many, many students, detective," he interrupted her. "You can't expect me to recall all of them."

"How about the one that was bullied to the point of being pulled out of your school?" Aaron slapped a picture of Molly at fourteen down on the desk. "Does this ring any bells?"

He cleared his throat, clearly uneasy, and he nodded. "I could never forget her."

"Why do you say that?" Carol cocked her head to the side, curls following. "Was it because she was the victim of vicious hazing?"

"I did everything I could to try—"

"You didn't do anything," Carol seethed. "You simply sat back while they bloodied her up and stole her uniform and took pictures of her in only her undergarments—which they posted on the Internet—"

"I tried my best," he cut her off. "High schoolers are brutal! I couldn't protect her."

"Did you even try?" Aaron leaned back in his seat. "She came to you almost every day with a new crisis, and wh—what was you told her?" He ran his finger over the inked words he'd gotten from a teacher who'd overheard. "Oh, right, you told her it's just a little teasing. Maybe if she fixed herself up like the rest of them, they'd leave her alone."

He lowered his eyes.

"And when she tried, they cut her hair, stole her purse and then locked her in the boys' locker room for the entire school day." Aaron's eyes sliced to his. "When she tried to report the incident, you lied and said she was in detention for trying to skip school."

"You didn't help her," Carol hissed. "You helped her bullies, because they were football players and cheerleaders and dance team members. They brought in money for the school, money _for_ you. They were kids who traveled across the country for debates and such, because when they won, they promoted the school. Do you know what else comes with shining your school in good light? Right, more money."

"She egged them on too," he argued.

"So, she brought this on herself?" Aaron's disgust was apparent in every feature of his body. "She was a little girl, being beaten and harassed and God only knows what else that she didn't report, and you have the audacity to sit there and say it was her fault?"

"The school was on its last leg. I couldn't let one case of minor bullying pull us down. We needed positive attention, or it'd be shut down. I did what I had to do to keep those men and women employed. And look at it now. It's one of the top schools in Philadelphia!"

"You might as well have punched her yourself," Carol upbraided. "You're vile."

"Nobody makes it through high school without a few cuts and bruises," he retorted. "She just had a few more."

"I had a teacher like you once," Aaron imparted. "She told me I was going to burn in Hell for my choices, said I earned the looks and comments and shoves I got. She used to say horrible things to me, worst than the kids who knocked me down in the hall, stole my lunch, tried to beat me out of being a 'fag', and I hated her. I loathed her more than the kids, because you know " _kids will be kids_ "."

Carol glanced at Aaron, never having heard this story.

"And I used to think about her getting hit by a car or dying in some other awful way, so I can only imagine what Molly must have in store for you—one of her worse bullies."

He blinked. "What?"

"Your other students, Nancy Byers and Markus Wheeler, were found murdered. We believe Molly is our doer, and you might be next on her list." His eyes darkened. "I'm not so sure I want to protect you from her."

He blanched. "Yo—you can't just leave me! You're the cops! It's your job to protect the people."

"I don't see any people in here." Aaron rose out of his head. "Just scum. Let's leave him."

"Please!" he sputtered. "I—I can help! I can give you information!"

"In exchange for what? More bullshit?" Aaron slammed his hands down on the table, Parker jumped, and he shook his head. "Don't make me laugh. You don't offer much."

"Molly had a friend. They were really close. Th—he might know where she is." He was pleading for his life. "Please, please."

"His name?" Carol wrote it down as he supplied it. "Ryan Samuels?"

"Yes." He nodded hastily. "Yes."

Aaron stood back. "Was he also bullied?"

"Somewhat."

Carol grasped Aaron's arm, not sure he wasn't going to attack this asshole right there and then, and she guided him out. "We'll talk to you in a minute." She closed the door and looked over her friend. "You okay?"

"I need some air."

She frowned as he stormed out of the bullpen, wearing a tight-lipped smile and dragging a hand through his hair. Carol had never seen him like that before. She knew most of his past, but like her—like anybody—there were things you just didn't bring up in conversation. They were late night confessions and things you only told the person you trusted most. It was clear it was an old, unhealed wound. She knew that feeling well, and she didn't want to give him time to linger on it alone.

"What's wrong with Aaron?" Tara lowered the phone from her ear, hanging it up.

"It's a long...story." She jogged after him. "Aaron!"

He looked up, the elevators doors were closing, and she wasn't going to make it. He blew out a sigh, and at the last second he held his hand out, the doors bounced open, and she hopped on. He leaned back, arms folded over his chest, and he wasn't looking at her. His blue eyes studied the floor and the tips of her grey boots.

Carol grasped the railing behind her, crossing her ankles and taking in the silence of the elevator. She was glad they didn't have music in here. It wouldn't have been appropriate, given most of the floors involved some type of murder. Carol remembered her first day here, and she was so nervous. She accidentally walked right into the cold unit, but luckily she saw Tara before she made a fool of herself. Tara was directing a woman down to the floor while trying to find the coffee cart, and Tara saved her ass. She already had baby detective written all over her. She didn't want clueless to be slapped on as well.

Her trip down memory lane was cut short at the sound of Aaron's husky voice, his head shaking side to side, his eyes still locked on the floor, and her frown deepened.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I didn't ask you to." She was whispering, even though they were each hugging either side of the elevator walls, and the only two there. "I just wanted to make sure you were going to be okay."

"He should have been fired a long time ago," Aaron erupted. "It's assholes like him that increase the number of teenage suicide! It's disgusting! How can he live with himself? I know he didn't put the gun in Molly's hand, but he took away an option, a road for her to take. It makes me sick."

"It makes me want to punch him right in the throat," Carol confessed. "I had a principal like that."

He raised his head. "You did?"

"I tried to turn to her for help." She drew in a long breathe. "I had...problems at home, and I wanted to get out. I tried to get her help, but she told me it wasn't her problem, to get back to class. She told me if I brought up my grades, she was sure my home life would approve." A mirthless laugh. "I was a fucking straight A student all through school, but she didn't care. I wasn't important. I was simply a little fluffy-haired sophomore, a gnat in her ear. And she made a point to avoid ever having to talk to me again."

His lips mirrored hers in a frown. "What kind of problems?"

A ping sounded around them, the doors opened and in walked two from the cold unit. They exchanged a brief nod, the pair conversing about their case, Aaron moved beside Carol, and Carol met his eyes, offering a compassionate smile. She wasn't going to go into details about her past, like he wasn't going to, and he returned her smile.

They rode down to the bottom floor, Aaron bought a likely to be nasty coffee, Carol didn't want anything, and she bumped her arm against his. He chuckled softly at her expression, paying for his coffee, and they spoke on the case a little until he was ready to go back up.

––

"Ryan's on his way in." Tara smiled at Aaron when he returned with Carol. "And Mr. Parker has refused to leave the interview room until he has some type of protection."

"I'll talk to him." Carol set a hand on Aaron's arm and strolled back into the interview room to speak to the man.

"We'll take Ryan." Rosita waggled a finger between her and Tara. "You and Carol don't get all the interviews."

"You can take Ryan and the next twenty for all I care right now." He seated himself and leaned back in his seat. "I just spent six bucks on a shitty cup of coffee."

"I'll get you a stress ball." Rosita crossed name and number off her list. "It's cheaper, and it won't leave a weird film over the top of your mouth."

"That happens to you too?" Tara rose from her desk and over to Rosita's, who nodded. "I thought I was the only one."

Aaron frowned in disgust and set the cup down. "I need to brush my teeth now."

Tara tossed a small bottle of mouthwash at him. "I use it every time I'm forced to use the cart out front. Keep it."

"Thanks."

Carol dealt with Mr. Parker, Aaron volunteered to grab real coffee for them, and Rosita and Tara took Ryan when he came in. Carol started to head out to give Aaron a hand with the coffee, and Tyreese received a phone call.

"Hello, Mr. Samuels." Tara smiled warmly. "Have you spoken to Molly Chase in the last couple of days?"

His brows rose. "Wow, there's a name I haven't heard in years." He chuckled and smoothed his tie down. "I'm afraid I haven't see her or spoken to her since...before she was pulled out of school."

"You two were close?" Rosita held out a picture of the yearbook staff, Molly and Ryan had theirs arms around each other, grinning.

"She was my best friend." A sorrow crossed his eyes. "I regret being unable to help her. She suffered through high school, and... I just wish there was more I could have done to take the heat off of her."

"You were mistreated too," Tara pointed out. "And you shouldn't have been, neither of you."

"It's kind of you to say, but it's in the past." He glanced between them. "Why did you call me down here? I know it's about the Markus and Nancy. I saw it on the news."

"We believe Molly is our killer," Rosita cut to the chase. "And we need to find her before she strikes again."

He gaped. "Molly? A—a killer? No. No. That's ridiculous. She had a lot of rage, but who wouldn't in our situation? She wouldn't raise a hand to them."

The door flew open, Tara and Rosita looked over at panicked Carol and Aaron who had been caught by Boss before they could get out of the building.

"We have a situation," Carol explained their barging in.

"And we—"

"Molly's holding Liz Turner at gunpoint," Aaron interjected. "C'mon, we gotta move. Uh, bring him with us. He might be able to talk her down, if we can't."

The team mobilized, Carol and Tara sped to Liz's apartment, and Rosita and Aaron drove with Ryan in the back. Tyreese had received the call directly. Molly had gone in shooting, emptying the apartment building, so it was just her and Liz in the kitchen that had no windows, so they couldn't get snipers in. They were almost entirely in the dark, save for the camera they'd slipped under the door to get a read on the situation, and they had to be careful if they wanted both women to survive.

"Why alert everyone of her presence?" Rosita didn't like the answers forming in her mind. "What the hell is so special about Liz?"

"Liz?" Ryan paled. "She was the devil behind hazel eyes and red hair. She was the worst of the trio."

"Trio?" Aaron glanced in the rear view mirror at the man. "What the hell's the 'trio'?"

"It's what we called the three assholes who hazed us the most and the worst." He sighed. "Nancy was pretty mild, Markus was in between the two, but Liz was the queen bitch of making our lives a living hell. She got off on all of it, taking videos and laughing at the sight of our tears and pleas. We swore she was soulless."

Aaron pressed harder on the gas. "She's going to kill herself with this last one."

Rosita nodded and called Tara to inform her.

They arrived about twenty minutes later, a squad had already cleared out the rest of the people inside, and he insisted only two people go up. They didn't want to aggravate Molly any, Carol and Aaron volunteered to go up, having experience with both hostage situations and being victims of extreme hazing. Tara instantly protested as Carol strapped into her bulletproof vest, but Rosita grasped her arm and pulled her back, knowing if anyone could get them out of there alive it was them. The odds weren't so hot, but maybe if they said the right thing, or did the right thing...they could save both women.

Carol and Aaron climbed the stairs, finding the fourth floor, and they saw another cluster of men outside Liz's door, speaking to Molly through it.

"She doesn't want anybody in," one of the men there informed Carol and Aaron. "She won't respond to us either."

"Molly!" Carol knocked on the door, ignoring him. "Molly, this is Carol Peletier of the Philadelphia police department!"

There was shuffling behind the door, Carol looked at Aaron, and he nodded.

"Molly, would it be all right if I were to come inside?"

A pause.

"Only you!" she called back. "And don't bring your gun!"

"Carol." Aaron shook his head, but Carol handed over her gun. "Be careful."

"All right, I've handed over my gun, and it's just me. They won't shoot." She shot a glance to men beside her before Molly instructed her to come inside. She opened the door, closed and locked it on command, and she held her hands up in a gesture of peace.

Molly was holding Liz in a choke hold, their bodies pressed tightly together, and even if she had a gun, she couldn't get one without getting the other. "Take off your vest."

"All right." She unstrapped it and let it fall to the floor. "I don't have any weapons, and I'm not here to trick you into walking by a window. I just want to talk."

"Talk?" She snorted. "Talk about what?"

"What happened to you, what Liz and Nancy and Markus did to you."

"What she did?" Molly pressed the gun against Liz's temple. "Do you know all of it? Every last detail?"

"No, but I've been there. Almost all my life I was beaten bloody and ridiculed and hated. I know how it feels to be at the end of your rope. I spent a good twenty some years there, but... It doesn't have to be this way."

"Of course it does." She was crying, just like Liz was crying. "It always had to be this way, Carol."

"No, it doesn't. I survived. I found a family, a home, somewhere I can actually belong. The hell I endured...was worth it, because I found someplace—"

"I don't want a family, or a home or to belong anymore!" Molly shouted. "I just want peace for the little girl who went home with blood staining her blouses and scratches on her back, for the girl who's clothes they stole when she was showering in the locker room, for the girl dumb enough to accept the invitation for a sleep over..."

Carol remembered how Nancy and Markus were posed, her mind linking up the connection, and she gulped down sympathy and heartache. "Okay, okay, we can do that. Just put the gun down. We can find a way to work this out, Molly. We can...do this together."

She smiled. "You really believe that?"

"Of course I do. People can come back from anything. I know you can come back from this and find peace." She lowered her hands. "Please, lower the gun and let Liz go. She can't hurt you anymore."

"I know she can't hurt me anymore." Molly snuffled and smiled at the detective, who's glossy blue eyes reflected a similar story to her own. "You turned out pretty good for someone who went through what I went through."

"You can still turn your life around. It's not too late."

She looked down at herself, Liz's hair over her shirt, and she lowered the gun. "You're right about that."

"Give me the gun." Carol stepped forward cautiously. "We can walk out of here together, and we'll get you help. You'll still have to face the charges, but there are endless possibilities waiting for you in the future. I promise I'll be there _every_ step of the way."

"Nobody's ever cared enough to offer that."

"I know, but I care. I really do, and I'm not just saying that because I'm supposed to." She smiled warmly at the confused and broken young woman before her. "You're not alone anymore, Molly, and if you'll let me be there for you, you won't have to be alone ever again."

She loosened her grip on the gun, Liz was breathing heavily against her, not speaking for the first time in her probably her entire life, and Carol stepped forward twice. Molly could see how sincere the cop was, and it filled her with happiness, the first she'd felt in far too long. She knew it'd go away, and she didn't want that, so she decided to make this feeling last forever.

Carol offered hand out for the gun, Molly smiled broadly and brought the gun to her temple, Carol's eyes widened, and she pulled the trigger. The bullet went clean through her head and into Liz's, both women falling to the floor, the gun clattering beside them, and the men behind the door stormed inside after kicking it in. Carol stared with round eyes at the women, Aaron pulled her back and into his arms, and she didn't realize she was shaking until he covered her with his jacket.

Aaron escorted her out of the apartment, Tara and Rosita rushed over to them at the sight of Carol, and he told them what happened. Tara set a hand on her back, Carol met her eyes, and Rosita pulled her to the side and away from the onlookers. Carol fell to her knees, sobbing at her failure, at her inability to help Molly, to save Liz, and Rosita shushed her, rubbing her back. Aaron headed out to get the car, and Tara moved beside Rosita to block the view of anyone nearby.

It was never an easy job, talking down a doer who was holding someone a gunpoint. They knew all the possible outcomes, but it didn't soften the blow at all. It was their job to enter a building and get a hold of the situation. They were supposed to bring the doers to justice, save their victims and close the case. It was never that simple, and this wasn't an open and shut type of case. Years of abuse and trauma warped a young girl's mind, and that fragile adult was inconsolable by the time they'd arrived. As much as they hated to admit it, this case was out of their hands the moment the first body dropped. This appeared to have always been Molly's endgame: take out the trio and herself. She couldn't live in this world anymore, and she made sure they couldn't either.

Of all the roads Molly could have taken, she chose the wrong one, but everyone has a road laid out before them. Carol and Aaron chose to be cops, to right wrongs, to bring justice to the people, to protect and serve. They could have taken that gun, taken out their bullies and ended it all, but there was an invisible hand that pushed them toward this path, and unfortunately there wasn't one for Molly. She strolled down that path with shaky hands and a loaded gun, trying to find peace. Trying to no longer be their victim. In the end, they were her victims, and she was a victim of herself.

They searched the apartment, removing Liz and Molly's bodies, and they noticed blood soaking through Molly's sleeve. They rolled it back and discovered the last part of her message carved into her arm: Learn. Look, listen, learn.

– – –

Carol curled up in her bed, having showered, and she fingered the class ring she'd found in the box of Shane's things. He must have forgotten he left this stuff here, and she was terrified for the day he came knocking, asking for it back. She knew it could happen at any second, and part of her wanted him to come right now. She wanted to throw herself in his arms and feel safe and protected as she always did there. She wanted to bring him into this bed and have him hold through the night, fight off her demons and hush her tears. Be the hero he always joked he was.

However another part wanted to sit him down and yell at him, demand to know why, why, _why._ She wasn't sure she wanted the answer, but she wanted to scream the question at him until her throat was sore. She wanted to get angry and really lay into him like she was supposed to, like Tara wanted her to be, but...honestly she wasn't angry. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

She rubbed her fingertip over the football engraved in the side and rolled onto her back, slipping it onto her ring finger, and it loosely hung there. She smiled at the sight. She never had a class ring of her own. She couldn't afford one, but she had his, and they were the same year. It wasn't the same as having her own, but she liked it. He'd chosen a gold ring with an orange stone, a football on the right with his name above it, and on the other was the school mascot. It was a little worn, scratched, but it was still in one piece. Probably the only thing of his from high school that remained intact.

She joked once he'd spent more on the design of this one ring than he'd spent time on anything, and he laughed, agreeing with her. She used to wonder if he'd put more thought into her engagement ring, but guess not.

She wiped at the tears that feel free, and she shivered. God, she still missed him. She missed his smell, his laugh, his eyes when he looked at her. She missed how he looked first thing in the morning. She missed when he'd grow his beard out. She missed how big and warm his hands were on her skin. All he'd have to do was run his hand down her side, and her skin would break out in goosebumps. He used to kiss them and smile at her, his eyes revealing his intentions every single time.

She missed that too. Being with him was one of the most intense experiences of her life. It wasn't until she'd realized she loved him that it became so intense. It used to just be sex, fun and amazing, but once love reared its ugly head, it was like they were the same being. When he looked at her, when he kissed her, when he laced his fingers through hers and brought her to completion...it was indescribable. She missed it so.

She sat up, reaching for her cell phone, and she hesitated, her eyes falling on his contact information. She loved the picture. It was in the middle of summer, and they'd gone out for lunch. They were just hanging out, and she'd taken a few pictures of them to use as a new background as her old one was from last winter. Shane didn't like to take pictures, so she had to talk him into it, and she was rewarded with this great photo of him. He was attacked by a big dog a moment later, being drooled on and licked, and it was a great day.

She pulled her legs in and brought the phone to her ear, pressing call. She moistened her lips and waited as it rang. Her heart stopped when he answered on the second ring.

"Walsh."

She couldn't breathe.

"Hello?"

She ended the call instantly at the sound of a woman in the background again. She was asking where the bottle opener was, and Carol tossed her phone to the end of her bed. She wrapped her arms around her leg, the class ring still on her finger, and she hated how much it hurt. She hated how much it ached inside to know he'd moved on, and she didn't want to cry, but apparently it wasn't her choice.

– – –

"We have to get her out of that little shithole." Rosita walked Tara to her door. "We need to go out and party and get wasted."

"That's not a good idea."

"Yes, it is. She might meet someone, maybe not her future husband, but how bad it could to causally hook up? She's had only Shane for years, so I think a new guy might actually help." She met her eyes. "I'm not saying it'll cure her break up blues, but maybe she'll realize there's still a chance for her to meet someone great."

"There's a chance for you to meet someone great."

She laughed. "Cute, but no."

"Why not?" Tara unlocked the apartment.

"Good night, Tara." She smiled and backed up. "I'll see you at work."

Tara watched her leave, rolling her eyes. "You really won't tell me?"

"Maybe if you pump me with enough booze." She winked at her. "Sleep tight, Chambler."

"Same to you, Espinosa."


	8. This Drunken Night

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

Their latest case was a strange one, the team had been staying pretty late to try and wrap it up, though eventually they were able to find a promising lead. They were all exhausted, but they weren't going to let this one go. Rosita and Aaron followed it up, Carol and Glenn were working on the details, and eventually they found a way to trap their man. They decided to end the night with a few celebratory beers at Jones's.

"So, I have a question." Rosita crossed her legs and locked her gaze on Carol. "And it's about the break up, so feel free to shoot me down, but at least let me ask."

"All right." Carol drank from her mug to prepare herself for Rosita's question. "Shoot."

"It's been about a month now, right?" She rested her arms on the table and leaned toward Carol, who nodded as an answer. "Would you be willing to go out with me tomorrow night?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you want to go clubbing, and I don't want to deal with people and loud music and expensive drinks."

"We're chicks," Rosita threw out, "all we have to do is show up and be hot, and guys will buy us drinks."

"No."

"Tara." Rosita turned a pleading gaze to the woman between them. "Talk some sense into her. We need to go out. _She_ needs to go out and have fun! When was the last time you had fun? With other people, of course."

Carol glared at what she was insinuating. "I'm not going."

"C'mon, what's the harm?" Tara prompted. "It'll be just you guys."

"You're not coming?" Rosita frowned.

"I thought it was just going to be the two of you."

"No, I thought you'd know you're coming regardless." She reached over and set a hand on Carol's. "Come with us, please. It'll be fun. I won't abandon you for anybody, and Tara won't either. It'll be a girls night."

"The last girls night involved Tara throwing up in the bathroom, you leaving us for some random person you met at the bar, and Shane had to pick me up at two in the morning, because I lost Tara somewhere between calling him and the bathroom." Carol shook her head. "I'm not going."

"That won't happen again. It'll be just the three of us."

"Yeah, Carol, go with them, get drunk and have a morning filled with regrets." Glenn sat down with a bottle of water.

"Why should I go?" She arched a brow. "I don't want to be in that kind of environment right now, and I don't want to meet anyone, not even to hook up, and I already have plans with peanut clusters and old movies for this weekend."

"You sound like my grandmother," Aaron teased around his glass of scotch, snickering at the dark glower she shot him. "Come on, you need to get out of that apartment."

"Why don't you go then?"

"I'm not a girl, and I have plans with my husband." He smirked and ordered a snack for the table.

"Just come with us." Tara set a hand on Carol's arm. "It'll get them to shut up, and we can probably sneak off when some hot guy starts hitting on Rosita."

"You know what? Fine. I'll go, but I'm going to be in a foul mood."

"As long as you're there, I don't care what kind of mood you're in." Rosita grinned. "Oh, and I'm dressing you."

"What? Why?"

"Because you have great legs, and you never show cleavage."

"I'm a cop! I'm not supposed to turn on the possible murders!"

"Well, it's a weekend, Carol, and I think you'd look hot in red. Like at Eric and Aaron's wedding." She ran her eyes over Carol. "Maybe backless too."

"Why not just put tape over my breasts and crotch and call it a new look?" Carol grumbled.

"Then what would I wear?" Rosita mused.

Carol chuckled. "So true."

They didn't spend a lot of time at the bar, as Glenn had a baby and wife to return to, Aaron had a husband and "plans" to rest up for, and the girls weren't looking to get plastered just yet. Rosita told them to meet at her place around five, Carol was already regretting this; and Tara tried to talk her into turning her frown upside down and unlocking the apartment door, because she had to use the bathroom, and her key was in her desk at work.

"You're such a bad friend, Tara. Where's the concern for me?"

"Right now my bladder is the only concern in my mind. Talk to me when I'm out of the bathroom."

Carol smirked and tossed her bag on the couch, collapsing like a sack of potatoes after it, and she groaned into the knitted pillow. She wasn't looking forward to tomorrow one single bit.

– – –

At Rosita's loft, Tara sat on the couch in her usual going out ensemble—a black blazer, a white undershirt and black slacks—hair down brushing barely over her shoulders, flipping through the channels while Rosita dressed Carol like she was a doll instead of a grown woman who would rather sell her soul than attend any club.

Rosita's red dress that she thought would fit Carol didn't. Carol had both lost and gain weight since the break up, and it was a little frumpy on her. Rosita settled for her favorite black dress, fluffing up Carol's curls and not allowing her to tie it back. She even put some makeup on her and a bit of perfume. Carol was coughing and groaning at the sight of herself, but she had to admit she looked pretty damn good. If she was in the mood for this, she'd kill tonight. However all she wanted to do right now was...kill tonight.

Rosita wore a leather pink and red colorblock dress with her long hair pulled back, and she pushed the pair out of her loft and out into the hall when they couldn't willingly come. She hailed a cab, because there was on way in hell they were driving to or from tonight. She had plans, and every single one began with shots.

"I'm already dreading this, and we're only in the taxi." Carol crossed her arms and pouted. "I haven't worn heels since the last time I went out with Shane."

"Well, you look great." Rosita didn't want to shove her clutch down Carol's throat and ruin her lipstick, but she just might if she kept this up. "And if you're anything like me when you're drunk, you won't be wearing them long."

"I'd rather die than walk barefoot through any club."

Rosita shook her head. "If Shane were to see you tonight, he'd kick himself for leaving you."

"If I were drunk and saw Shane tonight," Carol murmured, "I'd probably take him home."

"Are you serious?" Tara leaned forward. "Where's the progress? It's been a month! He might already have a girlfriend."

"Yeah, well I don't make good decisions when I'm drunk."

Rosita's lips sprouted into a wicked grin. "Tell me more."

"No, because I don't intend to get that drunk tonight. Maybe buzzed, but that's it."

"We'll see."

A few minutes later they arrived at the club, the pulsing music could be felt outside, and Tara and Carol exchanged a glance, sharing the same thought. Rosita was able to cut the entire line, having known the bouncer and the owner of the club, but they weren't sure what kind of relationship they had with her. She had a lot of friends in the city and a lot of one-night stands in the city too, and they didn't want to ask, so they decided to make a bet and see who could find out before the night was over.

Rosita found her regular booth and ordered drinks without asking Tara or Carol what they wanted, and she smiled sweetly at the pair.

"I wanna go home." Carol rested her chin in her hand. "I feel like a clown."

"Why?" Rosita set her clutch on the table.

"I don't know. I just do." She slouched in the booth and exhaled. "I need a drink."

"Well, Rosita's got that covered." Tara gestured to the man returning with whatever it was Rosita had ordered. "I'm gonna go ahead and say tomorrow's hangover is going to suck."

Rosita's wicked grin returned in full force. "Oh, I assure you it will."

They weren't sure if they wanted to do all the shots brought to the table, but Carol could use some liquid courage, and it seemed to be doing the trick. She didn't want to be so bummed out tonight. The music wasn't half bad, there were a couple of cute guys here, and she had her friends. She didn't want the suck the life out of the room like she normally did when she felt this way. So she drank to try and feel as enthusiastic as Rosita and Tara wanted her to be, and if that didn't work, maybe she'd black out and forget this night ever happened. It was a win-win, because either way, at the end of the night, she'd be depressed and have a headache. At least this way she wouldn't be depressed over Shane, just over her life and her choices.

"I think you have enough in you to dance." Rosita grasped Carol's wrist and hauled her out of the booth. "You coming, Tara?"

"No." She smiled. "I'd rather watch the disaster that's about to happen."

"Suit yourself."

Tara shook her head and fiddled with the last shot at the table. She'd never seen Carol throw them back like that before. She was the type to have one or two beers, one or two glasses of wine, and that was it. She wasn't the shots kind of girl, not like Aaron and Rosita. Tara knew she was still sore over Shane, but there was something else going on with her tonight. She would have to keep an eye on her, make sure she didn't do anything stupid, and she hoped Rosita picked up on the weird vibe Carol was giving off, because it'd take the two of them to keep that woman from making an ass of herself. Drunk Carol was probably the worst of all the Carols, even sick Carol was better than drunk Carol.

Rosita had pulled Carol to the back of the club, knowing Tara wasn't really watching them, and she sat her down. She offered a weak smile, and she could see the questions forming behind those blue eyes. She didn't want to wait until one crossed her lips, so she spoke before Carol could.

"I know how you're feeling right now." Rosita lowered her gaze to her lap. "I remember it like it was yesterday, and I know it'll take more than just us forcing you to get out to cheer you up, but I wanted to try."

"Rosita...?"

"It's going to be just the three of us tonight, and I mean that, but if you want to go home, we can go. It doesn't matter to me, one way or the other. I just wanted to try and help you out of your pajamas for a weekend."

Carol smiled. "I know."

"I don't want to see you suffering over that dunce anymore, and I know I'm pushy. I see things a certain way, and it takes...a mountain to move me, but..." She sighed and shook her head. "I just want you to be okay, and I know a month isn't enough to get over a three year relationship, but I'm willing to try whatever, even sitting in bed with you and with Tara and watching old movies and eating peanut clusters."

She beamed and hugged her. "Thank you, Rosita."

"You'll have to let me borrow your clothes, because this isn't a comfortable dress, and it cost me nearly an entire paycheck. I'd rather not sleep it in."

"Well, you won't have to. I'll try things your way tonight. My way hasn't gotten me anywhere, so who knows? I'll take a page from your book."

"You sure?" She grasped her elbow.

"Yeah." She nodded. "Now, let's go dance. I love this song."

Rosita laughed. "Okay."

– – –

When Rosita and Carol returned to the table, there were a bunch of drinks waiting for them, and Tara pointed out the guys that bought them for the ladies. Rosita laughed, Carol giggled, and Tara polished off the last of the shots they sent over in hopes that tonight wouldn't seem so long if she was drunk.

"You know," Rosita scanned the faces of the guys who sent drinks over, "he's not so bad."

"Which one?" Tara asked over the music.

"The tall one." She nodded her chin in his direction. "The one who keeps eyeing Carol."

Carol tensed. "What?" She glanced over, the girls laughed, but she did find the guy watching her. Rosita was right. He wasn't so bad, but he was tall, with short blonde hair, and the expect opposite of Shane in every possible way. Likely why Rosita pointed him out.

"Well?" Tara swallowed laughter at Carol's blatant stare.

"Well what?" She felt a blush creep her cheeks. "I don't know what you two expect me to do, but don't tell me, so we can forget this happened."

"Carol, don't be so shy. He's just a guy, and you don't even have to talk to him, just tell us what you think." Rosita crossed her legs. "Hmm?"

"I think I've had too much to drink already, and I should go home before I do something stupid."

They made a buzzer sound, like it was the wrong answer, Carol shot them both a glare, and they busted out in laughs. Carol slid out of the booth and headed to the bar for something stronger than the girly little drinks they'd been sent, Rosita and Tara tried to urge her to come back, but she didn't listen. They were too busy laughing at her, all slumped together in the booth, and she decided then and there to say screw it. Let something stupid happen. Let her laugh like an idiot for no reason. Let her have fun and forget the asshole who left her. Let her just do this one thing and move the fuck on with her life, because goddamn she couldn't do this anymore. She was so over moping and whining and aching. She said she'd take a page out of Rosita's book? Why the fuck shouldn't she hook up with someone? It wouldn't mean anything, she was single, and maybe being with someone else would wipe the fresh memories of her and Shane together.

As the whiskey she downed burned the back of her throat, she was reminded that she'd never actually had meaningless sex, and she might not be able to change that about herself with a few glasses of whiskey. But then again why not? And also fuck who she was. It wasn't like who she was now was good enough for anything but the job.

She ordered another and set her jaw. She cupped the refill and stared down at her reflection in the amber liquid. "Fuck it." She chugged it down.

––

"Where's Carol?" Tara shot up when the small brunette was no longer by the bar. "Oh, shit."

Rosita stopped giggling and tried to pull herself out of her drunken haze. "Where—where's Carol?" She pushed herself up and searched the club. "I don't see her."

"Me either." She frowned and wondered where she could have gone. "She was right there a second ago. I know it."

"Maybe she went to find the tall guy." Rosita tried not to laugh, because it wasn't funny, but she'd had quite a bit to drink. She was a happy drunk, and everything was funny, but it wasn't right now. Carol could be doing something very stupid, and it'd be their faults. They were supposed to keep an eye on her, and they didn't. She was going to regret the hell out of this idea tomorrow. If she could even remember that thought tomorrow. "Look for the guy."

"Rosita, do you know how many guys that are tall here? Tall _and_ blonde? Seriously." She shook her head and tenderly grasped her arm. "Come on. Let's go find her."

They weaved through the crowd, trying to find Carol in the mass, but they weren't very fortunate. There were a lot of curly-haired women in dresses, and they couldn't really recall what the dress she wore looked like. Was it black? Red? Silver? Rosita had so many dresses in so many colors, and she had no clue what in hell she'd given Carol to wear that night. She should have stick a sign on her back or something. Jesus, how were they going to find her? The room was already spinning.

"There she is!" Tara spotted Carol and the tall guy talking with no space between the two. "Hey, Carol."

Carol waved, not taking her eyes off the man. "Hi."

"We just need to borrow our friend for one second. Excuse us for just a moment." Tara yanked her away and whirled her around to face her. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Talking."

"That's not how you talk to someone. You could have counted the change in his pocket with your thigh!"

"How do you talk to people? With your fingers? I'm not mute, and it's loud in here." She had to shout already, so her point was definitely proven. "And I'm a grown woman. I'm a cop. I got this."

"You're drunk."

"I still got this." She removed Tara's hand. "Why don't you keep Rosita from making a fool of herself instead of getting on my nerves?"

"Excuse me?" Tara exclaimed. "I am just looking out for you!"

"Well, I don't need you to." She walked away and back to the man she was conversing with.

Tara scoffed and shook her head, spotting Rosita and seeing why Carol had mentioned her making a fool of herself. She pulled her off the dance floor and away from whoever was grinding against her and back to the booth. Tara was so done with trying to be the good one, with trying to keep mistakes from happening, so she decided to join her friends. Fuck it. Fuck responsibility. They were grown ass women, and they could hold their own. If Carol wasn't going to look out for Carol or let Tara look out for her then so be it. It was her mistake to make anyway.

– – –

Tara had lost sight of Carol and the blonde she was with, Rosita rambling on and on about something Tara didn't understand, because she was going back and forth between English and Spanish, and Tara was ready to leave. She wouldn't ditch Carol entirely, so she'd wait until she reappeared then she'd drag her drunken, ungrateful ass out of here and back to Rosita's.

The reason Tara couldn't find Carol anywhere was because Carol and the tall guy—Tobin, she believed this name was—had slipped away. It was a first for Carol, to not only kiss a man she'd just met and barely knew, but to have sex with him in the bathroom of the club. She had lost sense of herself a couple shots back, and somehow this seemed like a good idea. A good idea for anyone but her, if she could remember this in the morning, because this wasn't who she was. She could feel the seeds of regret planting themselves inside of her as she brought her closer to the edge.

When it was over, she wasn't sure who left first or said something first, but she found herself stumbling out of the bathroom with her shoes in her hand. Tara had found her then and hauled her and a very plastered Rosita out of the club. They took a taxi back to Rosita's, Carol went straight to the bathroom, and Tara helped herself to the wine in Rosita's kitchen.

Rosita climbed onto her bed in her tight leather dress, her hair down around her shoulders. She smiled at finding Tara where she had gone to escape her drunken babbling and possibly the sound of Carol crying, and she was enjoying her own drunken state for the first time tonight. Well, until Chatty Kathy came in.

She finished off her second glass, laughing at something Rosita had said in Spanish, and she turned to her. "Dude, what the hell?"

Rosita giggled and wrapped her arms around Tara's shoulder. "Thank you."

"What for?"

"I dunno." She undid Tara's hair and let it fall, tossing the hair tie aside, and she ran her fingers through her soft hair. She wasn't sure when Tara had pulled it back, but she liked it down. It was so pretty and shiny all the time. "You have nice hairs."

"Thanks." She tried to drink from an empty glass and snickered. "I think I drank the rest of your wine."

"Asshole."

"I know." She turned to look at her, finding those soulful coal eyes, and she noticed something there for the first time since knowing Rosita. She couldn't put her finger on it, her mind hazy from the various drinks she'd consumed throughout their girls night out, but it was beautiful. She was beautiful, gorgeous, stunning—all of those things—and being this close, Tara could see it as though it was magnified. It was breathtaking.

Rosita's hands slid from Tara's hair to her cheeks, and she smiled. "You're adorable, Tara. You're like a puppy!"

"Thanks?"

"I mean it. You're...like a really adorable...person with beautiful brown eyes and..." Rosita ducked her head down toward Tara's, her lips meeting Tara's lips that seemed so shiny, so pink she couldn't help but be drawn in.

The wineglass fell to the floor as Rosita gently eased Tara down onto the bed, pulling back to look at her, and Tara was looking right back. She brushed her thumb over her cheek, her nose bumping gently against Tara's, and she kissed her again, bringing her leg over to straddle her lap.

"Rosita." Tara wasn't sure if it was a protest or not, but it did stop her.

She kept her eyes closed. "Yeah?"

"I don't think this is a good idea." Even in her drunken stupor, she knew that much.

She opened her eyes now and smiled. "Then don't think, silly." She kissed her once more, deeper than the other kisses, and Tara softly moaned against her lips. Rosita smiled and gently parted her lips, opening her mouth and caressing her tongue against Tara's. She could feel the wary guard Tara had begin to fall, and she laced her fingers together behind Tara's neck.

Tara pulled back for air, finding Rosita's charcoal eyes thick with desire, and she knew hers surely reflected the same. She hadn't been with a woman in this way for far too long, and the desire and the drink were getting the better of her. There wasn't room in her brain for second thoughts as Rosita's soft lips touched her again and again, their impassioned pants increasing, their bodies beginning to burn and ache for more.

––

Carol was curled up in the shower, her face buried in her arms, and she sobbed. She sobbed for what she let happened with a stranger. She sobbed for what she said to Tara. She sobbed for what she let herself do tonight, and she wasn't sure she'd ever stop sobbing.

She wasn't hurting over Shane, so perhaps that was an upside. She was thoroughly disgusted with herself. She wasn't this person, and she didn't want to be this person. She wanted more and letting herself go all the way with a mere stranger was definitely not the kind of _more_ she wanted. It wasn't progress. It was running around like a chicken with its head cut off. She knew better, and she shouldn't have done that. God, she should have just stopped it. She should have said no and gone to find Tara and Rosita. She shouldn't have...said the things she said or kissed him or touched him or... any of it! She shouldn't have done any of it.

Fuck. She couldn't get it out of her head. It was the fucking bathroom, for fuck's sake! A revolting, likely unclean club bathroom. She didn't even know if the other stalls were empty. She hadn't cared. She was just so drunk and wanted to do prove she could do something stupid, which nobody ever should prove! It was stupid, the biggest mistake she'd ever made, and she didn't even know if they were safe, to be honest. It was barely an hour ago, but the details blurred together like watercolors. She could only remember how it felt during.

Her stomach churned, and she shuddered. She'd only ever had sex with less than half a dozen guys. Her first time had been a nightmare with nearly everything going wrong, and she hated it. She was drunk then too, but not as bad as tonight. She just wanted to get it over with. She didn't care who it was with. A mistake. She ended up with some senior at party, and they had sex in his parents bed. It hadn't hurt like everyone said it would, but it'd been embarrassing as hell. A complete and utter nightmare in every sense of the word, and she never liked to relived it. She sealed those memories good and tight, but tonight was just like that. At least with how she felt when it was over.

She ran a hand through her hair and squeezed her eyes shut, tears rolling down her cheeks. With Shane, it'd always felt right. It was never forced or awkward or anything. That's why she thought he was the guy, the one guy she'd be with until she died, but tonight was...like that too. It wasn't awkward until right now. It felt good, it _was_ good, but...he was some random bro in a club on a Saturday night. He wasn't anything special and yet...it was intense and good, and she...

Her head was throbbing, and she couldn't take the sounds of her cries anymore. She couldn't stand the stench of the club and of Tobin on her anymore. She reached up and turned on the water, not caring about the dress or her hair or her makeup. She just wanted to wash this night off her body and out of her mind.

– – –

She wrapped herself in a towel, the apartment was dead quiet, and she knew she'd spent a good hour and a half drowning in water and emotions and tears. She wrapped her hair in a towel and found her way back to Rosita's bedroom, finding Tara and Rosita passed out on a messy bed. She smiled at Rosita, her hair wild, and in only her bra. She had heard Rosita did strip down when she was drunk, and now she had the proof.

Tara was two inches from falling on the floor, and Carol didn't want to move her. She looked exhausted. A little weird with the slight smile on her lips, but maybe it was a good dream. What she wouldn't give to have a good dream.

She climbed onto the couch by the bed and lied down, still semi-wet and wrapped in a towel, and she closed her eyes. She wanted to sleep this off, and if she threw up, at least it would be on hardwood floors. She truly hoped she forgot tonight and forgot that man, but she did want to move on to something _more._


	9. Come To Terms

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

Prolonged moans filled the living room, the coffee pot hissing softly in the kitchen, and all three women were trying their best to survive through their individual hangover recipes. Rosita couldn't even get up out of the armchair to try and jog it off, Carol was wrapped up like a snake on the rug, hugging a pillow to her chest, and Tara was sprawled out on the couch. They were a miserable mess.

"What even happened last night?" Rosita whispered, her teeth cringing. "All I remember...are shots. Lot of shots. Maybe even hula dancing?"

"It's all fuzzy." Tara couldn't move anything, and she didn't want to try and upset her hangover. She'd just sit here until she felt life returning to her. "I think I'm still a little drunk."

Carol moaned softly on the floor. "Same here. I can still taste the whiskey."

"You drank whiskey?" Tara lifted her head to look at the sorry sap on the floor. "No wonder we lost sight of you last night."

"Where'd you go?" Rosita murmured. "When we lost you, what were you doing?"

"The tall guy," Carol replied with a slight smile, though it held little mirth. She could just picture their reactions and the humor wouldn't leave. If she wasn't worried she'd vomit, she'd giggle right now.

"What?" Tara and Rosita exclaimed at the same time, both groaning at the loud sound, and Carol nearly giggled again.

"What do you mean, you were doing the tall guy?" Rosita pushed herself up to look at her. "Like _doing him_ doing him? Or...I don't know, like cop stuff?"

"Or like teenagers? Over the clothes?"

Carol rested the back of her hand on her forehead. "We...had sex in a bathroom stall."

"What?" Tara gasped. "Seriously? You—and the tall guy? Had sex?"

"In the bathroom stall?!" Rosita stammered. "No, uh-huh. I'm not buying this shit. How drunk are you still?"

"No, no, I'm not lying." She sighed and dropped her hand. "I don't know who made the first move, but we ended up in the lady's room."

"Clothes on or off?" Rosita narrowed her eyes.

"My dress was on, and his shirt, but I think... I think I left my underwear in the club, to be perfectly honest. I don't have them, but they're somewhere."

"What are you wearing now then?" Tara frowned.

"I left a bag here when they bug bombed our apartment, so I'm wearing those."

"Okay, so you're telling us you had sex with the tall guy." Rosita sat up. "How was it?"

"Rosita!" Tara glowered at her for both asking that question and for making her raise her voice.

"What? I want details. I need to picture it. I don't believe Miss Goody Goody fucked someone in a bathroom stall, so paint me a picture." Rosita smirked. "How did it happen?"

"Somewhere between being pissed at myself and the whiskey. Again, I don't know who started it, but we did end up in the lady's room. I remember him accidentally hitting the little trash can for tampon and pad disposal—"

"Please, don't go on. It's _too_ sexy," Tara teased.

Carol rolled her eyes. "And I remember the sex—definitely remember that—umm, and I remember...trying not to say Shane's name..."

"When?" Rosita pressed.

"When I had an orgasm," Carol replied with a glare. "God, why do you make me say this stuff?" Her face was reddening.

"Wow." Rosita gaped. "Carol had sex in a bathroom stall last night. Holy shit. I didn't believe it, but you're like beet red right now, and you're avoiding eye contact. Holy shit." She giggled. "I'm impressed!"

Carol groaned and rolled away from her. "Shut up."

"It was your first night out, and you got some! I am happy for you. It's a big step."

"I didn't want to screw anybody!" Carol climbed to her feet. "I didn't want to get any. I didn't want to go! Damn it! I wanted to stay home and eat peanuts coated in chocolate and watch old movies! Instead you dragged me out to a club and let me drink as much as I did. If you really had my back like you swore up and down that you did, me and the tall guy—who's fucking name I don't even remember—wouldn't have happened!"

"You had sex, clearly enjoyed yourself, but we're to blame?" Rosita shook her head. "Be pissed at yourself, Carol. You didn't have to drink or make a move on the tall guy. Be pissed at how shitty you feel for letting yourself be loose. Be pissed at how ridiculously bad you needed attention in that way, but don't you dare be pissed at us."

Carol put her hands on her hips. "I'm going to the convenience store to buy something salty and some plan B."

"Dude!" Tara shot off the couch. "You weren't safe?"

"I don't know, but I'm not going to get pregnant by some random Joe in a club. I'll...find time to get tested later in the week, but for now I want to nip any possible babies in the bud."

" _This_ is why you should be pissed!" Rosita called after her.

The front door shut, Rosita heaved a sigh and headed to the kitchen to get some coffee, and Tara couldn't believe the conversation they'd just had. Carol had sex with some random man in a bar and could have gotten pregnant—or worst!—while Tara and Rosita...did something. What were they doing? Drinking? Dancing? Talking? Her memory cut out a few shots before Carol vanished on them. She hoped it wasn't important, because she had no fucking clue.

She didn't even know why she was naked this morning. Carol was in a towel, Rosita in her bra, and she was naked. She hoped nothing freaky went down, especially if Carol had unprotected sex, and she didn't want to imagine the backlash if something had happened. She loved her friends, but they were her friends. She wouldn't take that step with either of them, as Carol was straight and as Rosita wouldn't be taking any steps toward anything. The woman stabbed relationships in the gut and watched them bleed out.

"Want some coffee?" Rosita inquired from the kitchen.

"Sure." She ambled toward the kitchen and stopped about two feet from the doorway, suddenly recalling something that happened last night. It was a flash, a blurry one at that, but she remembered lips. Not her lips, but someone else's. That was all. What the hell did that even mean? God, she got so wasted last night. Never again!

Until it happened again.

– – –

Carol finished with her visit, hoping the results came back with good news, and she headed to work. It'd been only two days since that night, and she felt disgusting. It wasn't just the sex; it was the fact that she'd had sex with a stranger in a freaking bathroom stall. It wasn't something she would do, but she did it. She fucking did it. It wasn't something she ever wanted to say she'd done in her life, that was for fucking sure. Ugh.

She rolled into the bullpen, the new case all laid out before her on the murder board, and she dropped her keys and wallet in her desk. "Someone please fill me in."

"Sure." Aaron hopped up. "Well, it would appear our vic was a bit of a...runaround Sue. She got mixed up with a man who didn't approve of that lifestyle and...it might have been the end of her."

"Might have been?" Carol ran her eyes over the file.

"Well, she had quiet a few female enemies too." He sighed. "We're interviewing all of them. We have a Mandy Moore coming in, and we'll take that interview."

"Great." She headed to the break room to get some coffee.

"Hey." Rosita was stirring her coffee, hoping the creamer would mask the godawful taste of this liquid tar. "You look better."

"Well, I'll feel better once I get the results." She sighed and reached for the sugar. "I don't even have it in me today to drink black coffee. It smells burnt. Does it taste burnt?"

"It tastes like ass. Hot, burnt, black ass."

"How can it taste like a color?"

"I don't know, but it manages to. It's hurtful 'cause I love the color black. Now it's tainted by this terrible ass coffee." She cautiously sipped hers and cringed. "If I add any more creamer, I might as well stick a straw in it and drink it from the bottle."

"Great." She dumped in an assload of powdered creamer and wished she had been able to grab a real cup of good coffee before coming in. "When I die, have this coffee pot lower me into the ground so it can let me down one final time."

Rosita giggled. "All right."

"And you and Tara too."

"Whoa, what?" Her giggles dried up. "We didn't make you screw tall guy, or drink whiskey. I did pump you with vodka, but not whiskey, all right?"

Carol grinned. "Just kidding."

"If you weren't, I would have kicked your little ass all over the place."

"Hey, her ass isn't little." Aaron entered. "She has the second best ass in this office."

"Second best?" Carol arched a brow. "Who has the first?"

"Glenn." He smirked. "Then you and Rosita."

"What about Boss and Tara?" Rosita drank from her cup and shuddered it down. "I'd rank Tara at four then Boss."

"What about me?" He put his hands on his hips. "I'm not before Boss?"

"Well, turn around." She smirked. "Let me see what you got."

"Do I even want to know what this conversation is about?" Glenn was parked outside the break room, narrowing his eyes at his colleagues.

"I don't even want to," Carol answered. "Let's get to on work this case."

"There goes two," Aaron teased.

Rosita pushed off the counter and turned to Aaron. "So, Saturday night was both a bust and a success."

"How was it both?" He refilled his cup.

"We got her to let her hair down and have some fun then she screwed someone in the bathroom. Now she's full of regrets."

He nearly dropped his cup. "Carol? In a bathroom? With another human being?"

"Yep, a really tall guy whose name she doesn't even remember." Rosita scraped the back of her brain to remember what he even looked like. "I think he was a brunette? Or...maybe a blonde? Hell, he could have had four teeth and antlers, and I probably wouldn't remember him."

"So, you have no clue what happened to you?"

"Well, me and Tara both. Carol has bits and pieces, but what could have happened?"

"You are overly friendly when drunk."

"I am not."

"Okay, not overly friendly, overly sexual."

She rolled her eyes. "That'd be Carol, not me. She's the one who got laid the other night."

"Yeah, but I saw you at the Christmas party last year with that guy from the cold unit."

She flushed. "Shut up, Aaron." She flew out of the break room and to her desk. "Don't we have a case?"

He chuckled. "Yes, we do."

Glenn was already at his desk, looking over the crime scene photos of Ashley Champ, his eyes looking over the forty-seven stable wounds, and he frowned, mimicking the motion with his hand. He didn't know why someone would go through so much trouble to kill her. All he would have to do was cut her throat or shoot her or drown her or even just hit her with a car—there were a million less exhausting ways to kill someone—but he chose to physically wear himself down to inflict every wound. Their doer was livid with her, wanted to feel the blood and the blade enter her skin. They were left-handed, or so the coroner told them, and he glanced over the list of suspects.

Carol and Aaron were greeted by Mandy, who was ready and even eager to do this interview. They learned that Ashley had encountered quiet a few men who didn't approve of her stepping out, though she typically ended it with them when they made their feelings on the matter known. She said Ash wasn't one to be held down, wasn't the type to listen or bend to any man—or woman—and it got her into a lot of trouble. They could tell Mandy and Ash had something more than just friendship or enemy-ship, because of the way Mandy spoke about her. Aaron could see Mandy was married, had even spoken to her husband, but it would appear Mandy was in love with Ashley. It wasn't a big shock. They'd seen it before, but unfortunately it gave them a new suspect: Mandy's husband.

"He figures out his wife of four years isn't in love with him anymore," Carol theorized. "He finds out she's been hanging with Ash, snaps and stabs her in a rage, like Glenn said. It'd leave me angry to find out another person had stolen my wife's heart and love."

"He has the means to track her down," Aaron agreed. "He might have just gone to talk, but at the sight of this woman, the woman his wife now loves, he sees red and, as you said, stabs her in a rage."

"Or the night of the murder he was seen in his office with his business partner well after closing." Tara showed them the tapes from the office. "He's not our man, though there is an hour missing for lunch, but he has people claim he was there."

"Well, it's one person to scratch off, but let's interview him just in case. It could have been tampered with." Aaron took the tablet. "I'll analyze this, look for any...inconsistencies."

"I'll take the husband then." Tara looked at her partner. "Do you want in?"

"No. I don't want to see a man whose wife's fell out of love with him. It's...too familiar."

Rosita glanced up at that and watched Carol and all in dejected glory amble to the bathroom, though she hadn't had food or drink since her cup of coffee, so she couldn't be going to use it. Rosita set a hand on Tara's on as she passed to let her know she had this, and she caught up to Carol in the bathroom.

Tara caught a whiff of Rosita's shampoo or perfume, and she frowned. She knew that smell. She smelled like it Sunday morning, but she didn't use perfume, and she hadn't washed her hair before they went out. She could see a flash of something in the deep recesses of her mind, but it was out of reach. She likely smelled like Rosita, because the woman hung onto her all night, and she slept on her bed, naked. She still didn't remember stripping, not even Rosita's stripping, but whatever. They were all partly nude when they woke up, so at least it wasn't just her.

"Hey." Rosita set her hand on Carol's back and walked around to face her. "You okay?"

"No." She folded her arms and tears clouded her eyes. "This...has been a terrible week, and it's only Monday. I just want to forget it happened."

"So you got drunk and had sex. You're not pregnant, and I don't...think the tall guy was plastered enough to not remember to use protection, so I doubt your result will come back with anything but what it normally looks like."

"It's not about that, Rosita." She rubbed her hand down her jaw and met her eyes. "I hadn't been with anyone since Shane, and the first time...it's with some stranger who I couldn't pick out of a lineup!"

"The first time after a long relationship is always shit," Rosita replied. "It could be the best sex in the world, but...if it's not with the man you love...loved, it feels like you're betraying your relationship and yourself."

Carol sniffed. "What was your first time after Abe like?"

"Weird. I left right after, and I avoided him for weeks."

"Who was it?"

"Someone you don't know, but I understand what you're going through." She grasped her hand. "It'll be okay, and the next time...with the right person...you won't feel like this. Trust me on that. You're still missing Shane, and you had sex with someone else, and it's complicated to put into words, but I get it."

"I'm scared that if I find someone...it'll just happen again. I'll do whatever I did to make Shane end things, and that'll be it." She dug her thumb into Rosita's hand and tried not to cry. "I don't want to go through this again, but I'll have to. I'm not exactly a...good deal. I'm the reject item in the bargain bin."

"No, you're not!"

"Rosita, you don't know everything about me, and there are things I can't even tell myself that have happened to me, and it's screwed me up, okay? I'm not normal, not...like you and Tara. Shane was probably the only person in the entire world I had a future with, or that I could trust to have a future with, but he's gone, and I'm terrified it'll just happen over and over."

"It won't happen. You're a good person, you're beautiful, and any guy would be lucky to have you. I bet the tall guy is thrilled to have gotten with you."

"I doubt that."

"I doubt Shane is the only man in the entire city who is going to come into your life and love you and want all of that corny white picket fence shit with you. You're too good a person to end up alone, and I know you don't want to put yourself back out there just yet, but don't take that off the table, okay? It's still an option. You just need to meet the right guy. It's...not going to be easy, and you're only a month out of your last relationship, but when a new one comes along, please just try and consider it. It might not be marriage and babies and happily ever after, but it could be a step toward that."

"Why do you care so much about me finding someone?"

"Because I love you, Carol, and if you can't find someone in this city or the next who will love you and be there for you and stand by you then the world is truly fucked up. I don't want that little voice in my head that tells me it is to be right. I don't want to believe...that I won't find someone, or Tara won't find someone. We're not even trying, so we're double screwed."

"You don't believe in relationships."

"Yeah, I don't, but the small fucking child inside of me that my break up with Abe didn't crush still hopes." She grumbled, "The little bitch."

Carol snorted and giggled, and Rosita smiled. "I'm sorry."

"No, smile, just don't ever tell anyone about this."

"You have my word." Carol wiped at her eyes and exhaled. "It'll take a one hell of a person to make you want more, so I wish them—and you—luck."

"I doubt someone like that exists, so let's just drop it." She leaned against the wall. "You'll get over Shane, and it won't hurt as much. And once you find the right guy, you'll forget Shane even exits."

She smiled faintly. "I don't know about that, but thanks for saying it."

"The world works in mysterious ways. Who knows? Maybe the tall guy is your soul mate," she mused.

"Shut up. That isn't funny." She turned to leave. "I don't even know his name...or face."

"I bet you remember his d—"

"Don't even. We just had a nice talk. Can you not?"

She sealed her lips and snorted a laugh when Carol exited the bathroom, blushing from embarrassment, and Rosita followed her.

– – –

"She slept with her." Carol was leaning against her desk, relaying the information from the interview with the husband. "Mandy slept with Ashley the night she was killed."

"We even found DNA." Glenn flipped through the report the coroner sent them. "Saliva on her neck and thighs."

"And other places," Tara added, closing the report. "Why didn't Mandy tell us this?"

"Who wants to admit they slept with their best friend the night she was murdered?" Rosita shifted in her chair. "Besides it might mean her hubby did the killing out of jealousy, and she doesn't want him to go down for it."

"Or she doesn't want the world to know she slept with a woman, and her husband then killed that woman out of rage and envy," Aaron suggested. "She's covering her own ass."

"If I slept with a woman of Ashley's reputation, I'd cover my ass too." Carol moved hair that fell from her clip out of her face. "Mandy has her own reputation to uphold, and sleeping with a girl like Ashley would have been a nuke to that rep."

"So, what? Mandy kills Ashley to prevent Ash from destroying her rep?" Tara frowned. "That's a little thin."

"Ash wasn't shy about making her...conquests known." Rosita backed Carol. "She ended quite a few marriages because of her loose tongue, so it wouldn't be a stretch to say Mandy was worried she'd blab about her next."

"She loved her," Tara argued.

"Ten bucks we bring her in, and she says that exact line." Rosita hopped up. "Let's go bring Mandy back in, Peletier."

"Yes, let's." Carol collected her coat and fell into step with Rosita as they headed out to pick up Mrs. Moore.

"Hey." Aaron called to Tara. "How's she been lately? Since the suicide?"

Tara shrugged her shoulders. "She doesn't mention it. She doesn't cry about it. She doesn't get pissed about it. She doesn't jump or flinch if suicide is brought up on that cop show she watches."

"She couldn't be over it that quick," Glenn stated.

"I think she's blocking it out," Tara corrected.

"It's what Carol does best. Block it until it screams in her face." Aaron heaved a sigh. "She was close to this vic, so it's gonna blow up real soon. I hope one of us is there when that happens."

"Yeah." Tara rubbed her arm. "Me too."

– – –

Rosita and Carol caught Mr. and Mrs. Moore packing up their car, a plan to catch a train to Canada, and to burn their house down as a distraction for the cops. They arrested them and brought them back to headquarters, where Aaron and Glenn took on the husband and Carol and Rosita took on the wife.

"Why did you do it?" Carol inquired at the black-haired woman, shuffling her hands through the cuffs uncomfortably. "Why did you kill her?"

"I loved her," Mandy murmured. "I didn't kill her."

Rosita crossed her legs. "But you did kill her."

"No." She shook her head. "No, I didn't. I was with her, yes. I loved her. We... I thought we had something—something real. I was ready to leave my life and husband for her, but...I should have known better."

"She didn't want to settle down." Carol stopped writing for a moment. "She didn't want that life."

She shook her head. "Not even with me." Tears sprang up in her eyes. "I went home after we... My husband knew something happened between us, but I didn't know what his thoughts were. I should have. I came home in tears with runny makeup, messed up hair, and I was holding my shoes. For fuck's sake, my dress was even torn.

She swallowed and snuffled. "I told him I was with Ash, and...he assumed the worst, because of the men that flit through her life. He was out the door before I could catch him, and I followed him to her hotel room in my car, but...it was too late. He had a head start, a knife I'd given him for our anniversary, and...I tried to stop him, but I was horrified—no, petrified—frozen. He just killed her, because he thought someone had assaulted me. I don't know if he thought it was her or one of her men, but...it was terrible." She bawled. "And I didn't protect her. I didn't even try! I just froze, and—and she died."

Carol and Rosita exchanged a glance as she fell apart.

––

"Why'd you do it, Bill?" Glenn shook his head. "Why did you kill her?"

"Was it because she slept with your wife? Made her fall in love with her and damn near leave you?" Aaron pressed. "Hmm?"

Bill said nothing.

"You know you're going away for life, right?" Aaron studied his face. "You won't have your house or your job or your reputation. It'll just be you in a lovely orange jumpsuit with men who will be just dying to make a good-looking man life yourself their bitch."

"If you talk to us, Bill, we can cut you a deal," Glenn urged. "We'll find you someplace...safe to live out the rest of your life. You might even be able to get out on probation one day. Breath fresh air as a free man."

"Or, you can be a moron, a closed mouth son of a bitch, who winds up in holding with one of those men right now." Aaron smirked darkly. "Peppermint would love to meet you. He's fond of the business type, and he'll just...eat you up."

He gulped at that and turned to Glenn. "He's...not serious, is he?"

"We're PPD, who's going to question our judgement?" Aaron answered before Glenn. "It was just an accident you ended up with Peppermint, that he...had his way with you while...the guards were preoccupied."

He grew very ashen. "Please, don't do that!"

"Then talk to us," Glenn softly pleaded. "Tell us _your_ side."

He gulped again, his eyes wide. "Don't tell her I told."

"Her?" Aaron frowned. "You—your wife?"

He nodded. "Please."

"You have our word." Glenn leaned forward. "How did it go down? How did Ashley die?"

"I...knew Mandy was seeing someone, but I didn't know the whole story. I thought it was her personal trainer or that guy from the coffee shop. She's a beautiful woman, you know? She could get anyone she wanted." He frowned. "So I was confused when I...found them in that room."

"Ashley's hotel room?" Aaron wanted to clarify the where.

"Yeah, in that fleabag hotel." His frown deepened. "It was...vile, and I nearly had a stroke at the sight of them."

"So you caught them in the act?"

Another nod. "Ash was...going down on Mandy, and when I walked in, Mandy looked at me. She looked directly at me and wasn't even surprised. She...even smiled at me."

"What happened then?"

"Ash freaked out, flew out of the room, and I tried to talk to Mandy, but...she wouldn't let me get two words out. She threw me out of the room, and the next minute...Ash is screamin'." He slammed his eyes shut and lost even more color. "I don't know what they were fighting about, but whatever it was...pushed Mandy to kill Ash."

"But your wife isn't left-handed, Bill— _you are_." Aaron pointed to him to make it dramatic.

"No, no. Mandy is ambidextrous, though she sticks mostly to using her right hand."

"So, Mandy killed Ashley?"

"I swear."

Glenn and Aaron's gazes met, and they stood up to lead Bill out of the interview room.

––

The girls had Mandy by their desks to review the crime scene photos, the boys opened the door to interview room B and guided Bill out into the bullpen, where Mandy's eyes sliced to his, her tears still rolling down her cheeks. There was a prominent chill in the room, Bill couldn't meet her eyes, and something went click inside Mandy. They could all see it.

"That little cunt," Mandy murmured.

Carol folded her arms. "Is there something you want to say, Mrs. Moore?"

Icy gray eyes flickered to Carol's. "You can drop the act, and the Mrs. Moore." She wiped her eyes and crossed her legs. "I killed Ash, and there's little point in denying it as my pussy husband couldn't keep his mouth shut. God, men are useless. Well, not all men, but especially that man."

"Why'd you kill her?" Tara demanded.

She smiled. "She wouldn't fuck me."

"What?" Carol blinked.

"When Bill walked in," she elaborated with a heavy condescending tone, "she got so freaked out that she didn't want to see me anymore. I said she was being silly, that he'd get over it, but something about seeing the partners wigged her out. She said she didn't want me anymore, which is ridiculous. Who wouldn't want me?"

Tara nearly gagged at her narcissism.

"Anyway, I wanted to get back to it, but she said no. She told me to get out, and I tried...not to get angry, but _nobody_ rejects me, especially not some slut from Fishtown who had to fuck her way out off the streets." She clenched her jaw. "I brought a lunch with me, so we wouldn't get hungry, and I used the knife from the lunch to kill her. It was a gift to my husband, the knife I mentioned before. That part was true."

"Because she wouldn't sleep with you anymore?" Carol gaped.

"Because she acted like I was beneath her," Mandy corrected, brushing invisible lent off her pants. "That bitch was a slut, a streetwalker and in no way in hell better than me." She smirked darkly. "She might not have gotten me off in life, but she certainly did in death."

Carol had her write out her confession, Tara had the uniforms take her away, unable to stomach the sight of the woman, and Carol was ready to get home and shower every inch of her body in searing hot water to burn this day away.

– – –

"Carol went home." Tara sat in the break room, working on the Thai food Glenn had bought for dinner while they finished up the paperwork, though she was mostly poking at it. "I don't blame her. I can't wait to go home and shower this day off."

"Same." Rosita sat on the counter, working on her dinner. "I have to ask Glenn where he bought this. It's so good."

"Rosita, how can you even eat right now? We just heard a woman confess to murder, because the victim wouldn't have sex with her anymore." She pushed her food away. "Blek."

"I'm starving, Chambler, bite me." She hopped off the counter. "And I don't let my work get to me like that."

"That could have been you," Tara commented. "You and Ash have a lot in common. Don't you worry about that?"

"I don't get involved with married men, and...I mean, I experimented in college," she admitted, "but again if there's a ring on it, I won't touch it. Not anymore."

"Wait, you experimented in college?"

"Yeah, so?"

"So, you're...bi?"

"I don't know what I am, but I do know this could be a lot spicier, so if you'll excuse me, I have to go steal Aaron's. Boy can't handle spicy food anyway."

Tara turned in her chair and chuckled at the sight of Aaron sweating down his meal. She watched Rosita and smiled at her easily eating the spicy food. She wasn't surprised Rosita had experience with both men and women, but she was surprised at...herself. She hadn't spent much time with a clear head, given their case and their numerous suspects, but now that it was just the four of them in an empty office, she began to feel odd. Well, not odd, but...aroused. Like her body remembered something she'd forgotten, and she realized who her arousal was focused on.

Rosita was leaning over the desk, laughing at Aaron, her chest bouncing with the laughter, and Tara's heart stopped cold. It suddenly came rushing back to her. Rosita's lips meeting hers, her fingers knotted in her hair, the way her tongue slid across Tara's stomach, the surprise look at the belly button piercing. The nervous giggles and fumbling, the way she kissed her, hungry and potent, the way...they had sex in her bed with Carol two doors down in the shower.

Oh, fuck! She shot out of her seat and out of sight, her back flush against the break room wall. She was panting and trembling, and she could remember all of it. How Rosita made the first move, how they couldn't undo Rosita's weird foreign bra in their drunken state, how Rosita pressed against her and whimpered and moaned and said her name. She kept murmuring in Spanish too, but Tara didn't speak a word of Spanish, so she had no clue what she said.

Oh, no, no, no, no. She felt a cold sweat trickle down her back, her heart racing, and she hugged the wall even more. It wasn't just a one time thing. They did it twice, Rosita fell asleep after the second time, and then she fell asleep. "Oh, God."

"God what?" Rosita stopped in the doorway. "Hey, you don't look so good. Are you all right? Can't handle the spicy food either?"

"Do—do you really not remember the other night? Saturday night?"

"I told you I don't. Why? Did I do something? Or did you? Did you get a tattoo?" She smirked. "Or a piercing?"

"No, no, it wasn't something I did." Alone, anyway.

"Then why are you so pale and sweaty?" She stepped closer. "Tara, what's wrong?"

"Rosita, that night... Carol wasn't the only one who...slept with someone."

"What do you mean? You slept with someone?"

"Yeah."

"Really? I don't remember... Well, I can't say that, because the whole night is hazy, but you were with me the entire time, right? You couldn't have..." She dropped off, her breathing grew very shallow, and her eyes widened. "Oh, my God." She covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, my God."

"Rosit—"

"We had sex..." She backed up. "I had sex with you. With you." She lost all color in her face and backed up even more. "No, no, I didn't do that. I wouldn't do that. I...I—Shit. Goddamn it."

"It was just an accident."

"You don't accidentally fuck your best friend!" Rosita softly hissed. "Not twice! I don't care how drunk we were. That's not...something anybody accidentally does!"

"It was just a mistake. We can put it behind us."

"I can't get it out of my head." She shuddered at her actions that night, at how she did something she swore to never do, and she felt tears burn in her eyes at a small truth that revealed itself. It felt good. Not the sex, not the orgasms, but to be touched and stroked and kissed the way...Tara had done all of that. The way her lips moved over body, her hands holding her, her mouth... God, her body trembled at the mere memory. "No, no, no, no." She forced it back, forced it all back and ran out of the break room.

"Rosita." Tara tried to chase after her, but Rosita was already gone. "Shit."

Glenn and Aaron frowned at Rosita bolting from the office, Tara dragged a hand through her hair, and Rosita fumbled with her keys to drive the hell away from headquarters. She dropped them and fell to her knees, trying to pick them up. She bowed her head and cried at breaking the one vow she always intended to keep.

– – –

Carol wiped the steam from the mirror, loose curls clung to her still wet skin, and she hugged the towel tighter to herself. She'd thought long and hard about what Rosita had said and what she wanted from life, and she knew the answer to that. She wanted a family, wanted to better the world, wanted to stand by her friends and always close the case. _That's_ what she wanted, and she couldn't pretend it wasn't.

So she had to let go. Her and Shane were over. The late night calls, the breakfasts, the plans, the cuddling, the laughter, the tears, the heartache were in her memories, but they weren't going to consume her anymore. She would have new things with a new relationship, and while she knew she'd always love Shane, even a little bit, she knew Adam was right. Rosita was right. Boss and Tara were right. She didn't want to prove them wrong either, so it was time to come to terms with all that happened. It was over.

For the first time in a month those words didn't bring tears immediately to her eyes, though the pain was still there, and she inhaled through it. "It's over." She moistened her lips. "It's over, and you're going to be okay."

She used to do this when she was a child. Ed, her father, was a terrible man. He used to abuse her and her mother, and she still had the scars. She would beg him to stop, beg him to leave them alone, but he never did. She was too scared to ever speak out, and then she was eighteen and she could leave, and it was too late. She never went back home to see him, because she had nightmares about what he did to her, to her mother, and she couldn't face that. She couldn't face him. With all her self-defense training and confidence on the job, she couldn't muster that and challenge him, make him feel just as bad or feel guilty—or feel fucking anything! A heartless man felt little, she supposed. His conscience must have been removed at birth.

After his beatings, her mother used to lock in her the bathroom. It was the only door that locked, and she was trying to help. It wasn't until later that help meant screw Ed until he fell asleep, and she would curl up on the floor and cry. She saw her reflection once. This small, crazy-haired little girl with red rimmed eyes and busted cheeks. She touched the mirror and consoled herself since her mother wasn't there, and she had no siblings. She would tell herself all the things she imagined her mom would say if she was in there with her, sometimes stroking her own hair and humming a song. She never found out what her mom would have done, because when she was sixteen, her mom packed up and left while Ed was at work and Carol was in school. Carol hasn't seen or heard from her since.

She shook the tears from the anguish of her childhood back and inhaled. "You'll be okay," she whispered, smiling and setting the necklace with Shane's class ring on it down. "It's over, but you'll be okay."


	10. Adding

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

It'd been a frigid three weeks at the office. Well, technically two. Rosita called out for an entire week, and no one knew why. They thought maybe the last case had gotten to her, and she wouldn't answer the door or their calls, so they could only assume. It was sad to see, especially as not even Tara could get through her. They hoped she would be okay.

However that hope died when she got back and proved they had everything to worry about. She had the bitch claws out and dug them into Tara for some odd reason. The team had no clue what the hell had happened between them, but all the time they would find the two bickering and slipping in hurtful and snide remarks. It was beyond weird, especially since Tara had been so relieved and happy to see Rosita. She'd tried to talk to her, but Rosita had given Tara the "cold body". The cold shoulder didn't encompass how cold Rosita had been.

Tara had been thrilled to see Rosita again, after a week of trying to call and see her, trying to figure out where they were and how their relationship was, but the moment Rosita's onyx eyes met hers, she felt a chill slice through her. She had tried to be nice, offering Rosita some coffee from Starbucks, as she had to head out with Carol anyway, but Rosita sharply insisted she didn't want anything from _her_ , precisely her. It had just been the two of them as Aaron and Glenn were with Boss, and Carol was collecting the report from the M.E. Tara tried to bring up Saturday, but Rosita shut her down and strolled out of the bullpen, ponytail bouncing the entire way out.

She didn't know what the hell had happened to Rosita the past week, thus she attempted to give her the benefit of the doubt. She was polite—overly so—and generous, even to the point of letting Rosita walk all over her now and then. She had reached her limit and tried again to talk to her, but Rosita once again refused. She got pissed this time at the icy wall Rosita had installed between them and came close to blowing up and nearly spilling their little tryst to the entire office. She swallowed her words and dragged Carol to the gym so she could beat the crude out of something while complaining to her friend about it. She didn't give any details, but she felt better by the time they left. The punching bag probably didn't feel the same way. Or her knuckles. Even through gloves and the tape, they were swollen and bruised. She knew Carol was concerned, but she couldn't tell her what happened. If she ever wanted Rosita to speak to her, or wanted Rosita and Carol to remain friends, she had to keep this to herself.

If she told Carol, she would confront Rosita, and that would be a nightmare for everyone. Carol didn't consider where she was whenever she confronted people. She just wanted to know the whole damn story, and she wanted to now it right the fuck now. It was terrible and awkward, because though she was small little toaster, she had volume and rage. She defended her family like a puma defends its family, and she didn't want to unleash that on Rosita, no matter how big of a bitch she was being. No one deserved the wrath of Carol. Well, maybe Shane and her asshole dad, but other than them, no one. If she could make Carol turn her little tornado self on them, she would have done it the moment Carol picked up a gun. She didn't want Shane dead, but she low-key wanted her father to at least taste death. Fucker nearly drove her to Death's doorstep.

Her grip tightened on her pen at the change in her thoughts, and she had to leave the bullpen before she snapped it in half.

Rosita passed Tara as she stormed off, and she blinked at the storm cloud hovering over her. She knew she wasn't the cause of it. She hadn't even spoken—er, ignored, really—the woman today, so it wasn't her. She wanted to ask what was wrong. Her heart was curious and concerned but her brain wanted to shut shit down. She hated to be in such conflict, but there was nothing she could do at this point. Nothing short of dropping to her knees and begging for forgiveness that was.

Tara had been so kind and keen on putting what happened between them in the past, but Rosita's was so terrified. She wasn't the type of woman who slept with her friends. She wasn't the type of person to do that. She wasn't always a good person, and she didn't always do the best or right thing, but she wasn't...an idiot. Well, she thought she wasn't anyway. She thought she could always keep herself in check when she was drunk, but she couldn't. She had done the one thing she swore to never do with her friends. They could talk shit, borrow money, stay over at her place, steal her clothes—anything—but have sex with each other. It was the one promise she'd made after fucking up a ten year friendship.

Only she'd been foolish then. She thought they could go back to how things were. It was one drunken night in college, but she was wrong. Things were entirely different, and they grew apart. She lost one of her best friends, because of tequila and jello shots. She vowed the day they stopped speaking to never allow that to happen again. Friendship meant the world to her. She didn't get involve beyond sex, so friendship and the intimacy it provided was all she allowed herself to have. She loved it, craved it, and she destroyed it. She took it and crushed it in her hands—twice.

She knew her approach with Tara was like cutting the ties with a machete, but she had tried the nice approach before. She tried the kindness and the smiles and the pretending, and it didn't work. They struggled and fumbled and sputtered until they crashed and burned. Rosita was left alone until she enrolled in the police academy. She was instantly suckered in by Carol and Tara. In fact she remembered how they met. She was standing just inside the door, and Tara had her arm around Carol's shoulder, harassing her, and she saw Rosita. She pointed at her and said she was one of them now. She then threw her other arm around her shoulders and lead her to the proper area. She kept it up until the instructor came in then she'd link their pinkies now and then whenever they had to stand, trying not to giggle.

Her chest ached, and she turned around to see Tara's back as she spoke with Boss, and she dropped her eyes to the floor. She loved Tara. She was one of her best friends, and now she wasn't. It was over. All the years, all the history, all the secrets and inside jokes and laughter and tears and bad puns were over. She didn't want them to be, but in the end it would happen. She simply had that kind of luck. People entered her life, she fell in love—or just loved them—she'd screw it up, and it'd end. In the blink of an eye years of talks and inside pranks and money pools, all the months of clothes shopping, going to the range together, picking on their squad mates, all the weeks of knowing exactly how she liked her coffee and surprising her with it now and then, and all the days of walking side by side, minds link as they focused on the case were wiped away like a child's tears. Regardless of how kind they were to each other now, it would happen. She knew that without a shadow of a doubt. When she fought, she only seemed to lose even more, to fall harder, and she couldn't do it, not with Tara.

– – –

The fourth week started out with a raging fight, Carol had walked in on it with Aaron who had tagged along with her as Tara had paperwork she needed to catch up on, and Glenn was practically hiding in the break room. The sharp-tongued Latina was raging about their suspect, and their resident lesbian was fuming about their victim. It wasn't pretty.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Tara held her hand up. "Oh, right, you just love to be _wrong_!"

"Just because she seemed like an okay person when she was alive doesn't mean she was!" Rosita spat. "You don't know shit about who this victim was! She could have been cruel and manipulative, as the man you all claim to have done it said!"

"We have no proof she was! We have mountains of evidence and witness reports against him!"

"You have _one_ witness report!"

"It's still one more than you," Tara hissed.

All five homicide detectives jumped like school children who had been caught trying to steal snacks during nap time at the sound of their boss bellowing, "Espinosa! Chambler! My office now!" Boss never yelled, never scolded, never glared, but he was doing all of it now, and it was directed at the two mentioned cops. Nobody felt sorry for them as they'd been making this bed for a week now, so they hoped they both came out alive.

Rosita and Tara stood beside side by side dejectedly inside Boss's office, both avoiding eye contact with the tall, father-figure before them, and he shook his head at them. Rosita wanted to protest and sweep it under a rug, but it was far too late for that. Boss was in his Boss mode. And his Dad mode too. Damn, they'd really done it this time, hasn't they?

"What on earth is going on between you two?" he demanded once he'd shut his office door. "Explain it to me right now, and don't you dare try to charm me with your sarcasm, Chambler. I am in no mood for it."

"I don't know what you're talking about, Boss." Rosita crossed hers arms and looked over his shoulder. "We were just having a friendly debate ab—"

"Friendly my ass," Tyreese interrupted. "You've been at each other's throats for three weeks now. Three very _long_ weeks." Tara opened her mouth, but he shut her down. "I don't want another word to come out either of your mouths unless it's the truth. So why are you fighting? What on God's green Earth caused _this_? Out with it."

Rosita inadvertently blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor, her hair cloaking her face.

Tyreese looked from one dark-haired woman to the next then sighed. "Do you want to talk it out alone first? Because none of us are leaving until this is resolved. I can't separate you two. You aren't partners, but you're disrupting the flow, the peace, of this office. I'll transfer one of you out if I have to."

Rosita's mouth ran bone dry and her heart stopped beating at the thought of being transferred out. Tears nearly crossed her eyes at the thought of packing up her desk, packing up the last few years of her life and strolling out that doorway for the last time. She couldn't do that. This job was everything, the people she worked with, the peace they gave the victim's family when they brought down a doer—it was her dream, her passion, her drive. It was the one constant besides family in her life. She couldn't be transferred. She'd worked too damn hard for this. She couldn't just...leave this place. The gross coffee, the smiles of her teammates, the rattle of handcuffs, the rush of taking down a particularly cocky doer who assumed they'd get away with murder was such a massive part of her life. There was no walking away!

Tara blanched and her heart dropped own to her knees, melting like chocolate in the sun, and she was ready to fight. She'd rolled her sleeves up and fight Boss right here, right now, to keep her damn job. She couldn't simply saunter out the doors for a final time just yet. She knew one day when she was old and white-haired, but not a day before. Hell, on the actual day they'd have to drag her wrinkly ass out of here, kicking and screaming. She was born to do this job, to stand shoulder to shoulder with her partner and take out any threat, to protect and serve. It was in her very blood, and she couldn't stomach not seeing Glenn, Carol and Aaron every day. Hell, even old Boss right here. They were her family now that hers was states away. She couldn't—wouldn't—goddamn refused to be forced to leave. He'd have to shoot her.

"Now I don't want to do that, so work this out, ladies. Work it out and make up, okay?" He opened the door. "You have thirty minutes."

"Yes, Boss." Tara nodded and closed the door behind him. "Blinds."

The two quickly twisted the blinds to his office shut for privacy, Rosita turned once her half was done, and Tara slowly finished her last one. She pushed her sleeves up and face the woman in the room. There was a weighted silence in the room, they didn't dare near each other, and the silence seemed to be paying rent as it was clearly here to stay. They had no words to try and evict it, and they shifted awkwardly, shifting their weight and gripping their wrists, eyes wandering to the pictures and medals in Boss's office.

Tara reached out and stroked the medal his grandfather had won in the war, and she sighed, withdrawing her hand and moving her eyes to Rosita. "Why the hell are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" Rosita met her eyes.

"Being so damn cold! If you were the weather, I'd have died from exposure!" She threw her arms out. "What the hell did I do to deserve this treatment, Rosita?"

"You had sex with me!"

"And you had sex with me!" Tara snapped. "We fucked each other, okay? I get that we crossed a line, and I get that you don't do that, but guess what, Espinosa? Neither do I! I'll joke to the high heavens about it, but I've never actually done it until...Saturday."

"It's my fault."

"No, it wasn't. It's on both of us. We're both adults who got drunk and let this happen. You can't assign on the blame on yourself. I won't let you."

She smiled faintly. "I'm sorry."

"You should be. You were really cruel to me. I tried to be...okay with you, but you...came out punching. I know you don't like what happened, but there was no need to—"

"I didn't say I didn't like it," Rosita corrected. "I don't like that I slept with my friend. As for the actual act itself...well, that was good."

"Good?" She crossed her arms. "You think I'm just "good"?"

She smiled, her walls shattering as she laughed, and she stepped closer toward her. "Okay, it was great. Are you happy now?"

"I was happy with good, but great's okay too." She smirked.

"I just can't believe it happened between us." She leaned on the edge of the desk and buried her face in her hands. "I promised I wouldn't sleep with any of my friends, not after what happened the last time, and I broke it. I was doing so well, and...God!"

"We obviously won't get passed this until you get over breaking that promise."

"I can't lose you." She dropped her hands and gripped the end of her blazer, shaking her head. "And having sex with you is what's going to make me lose you! It was just that one night, but it was enough the last time."

"We're not like the last time, gorgeous."

"We are. It is! It's the same thing, but a different person. We were both drunk, both good friends, both female." She leaned her head back and scoffed bitterly. "We can't avoid the fallout."

"Then we avoid the fallout."

"What?" She blinked. "What does that even mean?"

"Why don't we just...become more?"

"More?" She pushed off the desk. "More than friends?"

"I'm not saying we date and get married, but if you think it's going to help, why don't we just leave sex on the table? I mean, if not having sex is causing this to happen to us and our relationships at work then...we kinda have to. For their sake, I mean. It's totally selfish of us to, you know, not do this." She couldn't help the smirk she shared with Rosita. "I mean, am I wrong?" Probably, and that wrong would come back to bite her ass.

"Friends with benefits?" Her lips twitched around her smirk. "You want this?"

"Well, not really, but we can keep it causal." She shrugged. "And you won't lose me as your friend."

"But having more sex will only make it worse."

"I didn't say we were going to have sex again. I just said it was an option. I think...we need that option, don't you?"

"How would that work?"

"We won't be destroying our friendship, simply adding to it, and we don't have to act on it. Will that put your fears at ease?"

"And if we wanted to act on it?"

"Well, I'd like to have dinner first. I'm just that kind of girl." She grinned wickedly, and Rosita laughed, nodding. "I don't know, but we'll figure it out. You're a good friend, and we screwed up, but ignoring it isn't helping. We're going to kill each other, and to be honest, it wasn't...the worst thing we've ever done together."

"It was definitely better than last New Year's Eve."

"Anything we've done together can never top how bad New Year's Eve was." Tara could still feel the hangover, taste it even. So gross. "I don't even want to remember that."

She smiled softly and nodded again. "Okay. Let's do it."

"What, right here? I mean I know Boss is a clean man, but...nah."

She smacked her arm. "I didn't mean now. I just meant...okay."

"Okay." Tara reached out and tucked hair behind Rosita's ear, and Rosita flushed at the tenderness in the action. "I have a hair tie in my desk. Do you want to borrow it?"

"Sure."

She halted before exiting the office. "Are we good? I don't want to give them false hope."

Rosita smirked. "We're good."

"Good."

They were good, but things had changed. Rosita could feel that, see it, and she hoped to the high heavens no one else did. Their little patch would only last for so long, were anyone to find out, it'd peel right off.

––

"What the hell happened between you and Rosita?" Carol handed Tara a bowl of homemade beef stew that night. "You two were ready to draw blood one minute and now you're best buds again."

"We just worked through it."

"I've never seen Rosita liked that before, not even if we accidentally bring up Abraham." She crossed her legs. "Are you two really okay?"

"Yes, we're okay. No more fighting, I promise."

"Good, because I don't think any of us can survive you two doing _that_ again." She didn't notice how Tara chuckled softly to herself as she turned on the movie. "I hope you don't mind horror. I was just craving Stephen King."

"No, it's cool. I could use some of the King's work to take my mind off our work."

"Here, here."

Tara softly laughed again at Carol's statement. She didn't know if she and Rosita would ever sleep together again, but to be honest she wouldn't mind. It had been nice and familiar to be with her. She was a good friend, and they came together in a way that they never had before. It didn't feel wrong until Rosita went ice bitch on her, and even then it only felt like a mistake. However of all the mistakes she'd made in her life, this was one she didn't want to undo. She wondered if that meant something, but at the sight of moving playing her thoughts were drowned by horror and the deliciousness of Carol's beef stew. There was plenty of time to think about how stupid her idea was, and how oddly right it felt with Rosita later.


	11. On The Table

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

It'd been nearly three months since Shane and Carol had broken up—they were a week or two shy of the three month mark—an entire month since Tara and Rosita had first had drunken sex, three—nearly four—months since Eric and Aaron wed and little Lauren was brought into their lives. Eric had decided to have them all over for a rooftop picnic. It was pleasantly warm for September, and Eric had thought of everything to keep them warm, fed and happy, even little Mae Rhee.

"She's so precious." Carol cuddled the little bundle closer to her. "Even more than when she was born. She's a little pumper and is less red and wrinkled."

"Thanks. My breasts try." Maggie crossed her legs and snuggled closer to her husband underneath the plaid blanket they'd been given.

"Carol, tell your uterus to calm down," Rosita teased. "I can hear it telling you that you need a little bundle of your own."

"Well, all my uterus is telling me right now is that my period is trying to kill me." She groaned softly. "The cramps are pure H-E double hockey sticks. I think I may be dying, but don't worry. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"You'e pretty bloated," Aaron pointed out.

"How do you know?" Glenn arched a brow.

"She has on stretchy pants." He drank from his mug. "I'm a cop. I'm supposed to be observant."

"Well, you'd be bloated too if you were a girl." She huffed. "It's been a long week, and I can't wait for it to be over."

"Why? I like it." Tara lowered dip-covered chip from her mouth. "You've gained weight from the binge eating, and you look like you again, not the hollow mess Shane left behind."

"How are you?" Maggie asked suddenly. "I haven't seen much of you since the wedding, and I know how hard you took the breakup. Are you okay?"

"I'm okay." And she meant it. "I'm coping, and I'm just about ready to try dating again. I haven't met the right guy, but if you guys know of any, let me know. I might need a practice date before I meet someone I actually like."

"I know some guys." Rosita motioned for Tara to open the blanket she'd claimed, and she sat beside beside her, their legs smashing together, and she covered her shoulder with the blanket. "And I do mean know as they're my friends."

"We don't have the same type," Carol reminded her.

"So? You said practice."

"As a joke. I'm trying to force myself to be happy about dating again." She handed the little baby back to Glenn when she began to yawn and wake, and from what she heard the little bundle liked to scream when she was hungry. She didn't want to actualize that. "It's been a challenge since the only decent guys in the city are gay, taken or gay _and_ taken."

"We can't all have a Glenn," Rosita mockingly pouted. "We should mass produce him. We'd make a killing."

"Essence of Rhee," Tara tossed out.

"Why do I hang out with you people?" Aaron mused on his way to the ladder to check on how Eric was doing with dinner.

"Because we're cool," Glenn answered the rhetorical question. "You'll never find people as cool as us."

"Literally." Rosita shuddered and snuggled closer to Tara. "I get the theme, and it's cute, but I'm cold. My buttocks is frozen."

"Here." Tara shrugged out of her hoodie. "I'm not easily cold."

"You sure?"

"It's this, or I let you burrow into my body."

"Thank you." She accepted it and slipped it on, moaning softly at the warmth. "So warm."

"Here." Carol tossed her scarf at the shuddering mass of Espinosa. "I'm going to use the bathroom."

"Take your time." Tara squinted at the light that caught her eyes when she turned to check out the view. "It's so pretty up here. It's quiet."

"Yeah." Glenn cupped his mug of hot cider in both hands. "It smells like fall."

"I love fall," Rosita told them, "just not the cold."

"Well, just suck the heat out of me." Tara smirked. "Carol does it when we sit on the couch together. I'm used to it. I don't need my body heat."

"Thanks. You're a gem." She wrapped her arms around Tara's shoulders and hugged her, Tara felt her skin tingle when Rosita's lips brushed over her neck, and she shivered, hoping the couple beside them wouldn't notice. Luckily they were distracted with Lauren being hungry.

"Do you mind I breast feed?" Maggie asked the two women.

"Go right ahead." Rosita smiled. "I know how grouchy Daddy Rhee gets, and I can't handle Baby Rhee that hungry and grouchy, because she doesn't know when to stop because we're gonna feed her just yet."

"So tactless." Tara rolled her eyes at the woman on her shoulder. "It's fine with me. I'm partly blinded by the sun anyway."

"Here." Glenn stood up. "Let's just go inside. It's too chilly out here for her anyway."

"Fine, just leave us."

"To keep my baby from getting sick, okay." He smiled at them and helped Maggie down to the apartment.

"So, it's just us." Rosita stole the blanket Glenn had left behind and hugged it to her, absorbing its warmth. "And the soon to be setting sun."

"It's almost romantic." Tara pulled her legs in and rested her arms in her lap. "It's nice."

"Yeah." She rested her head on Tara's shoulder. "It is."

––

Carol lent Eric a hand with dinner, trying not to laugh at his failed attempt to make some dish he'd seen on Facebook, and she helped him make it presentable. It was eatable, but not as pretty as he'd been going for. It tasted good from the bits they'd carved off, and it was very like Eric to make this meal. She was happy he seemed content with their editing, and she couldn't help but remember the last time he'd messed up a meal.

It'd been Thanksgiving, and Aaron and Eric had invited them over since Shane's parents had gone on a cruse for the holiday, and thy'd trusted her and Shane to scramble up their own meal. Thankfully Carol and Shane were swept up by Eric, and they brought a dish of yams and helped prepare the stuffing. Shane had brought two bottles of wine as his "side dish" since he didn't want to help with the stuffing. His helping her with the yams involved an inappropriate use of the counter top and the waste of a good sweet potato.

Anyway, Eric had tried to make this really adorable cheery pie with a leaf-design crust. He'd seen picture of it and was determined to make it, and he'd burned the shit out of it. It was blackened and hard as a rock, and he nearly threw it out the window. It would have killed someone, and she didn't want to get him on accidental manslaughter with a pie, thus they made another one together. The boys were busy swapping undercover stories, and they'd made a better version of the pie with a few alterations. It was delicious and pretty, and it'd been fun. She felt like she was with family the entire day. A normal, happy, loving family. It was one of the best holidays she'd had. She hoped to have better ones in the future.

They gathered around the table, finding their seats once Aaron called to them, and Rosita—of course—filled the glasses with wine and water for Mama Maggie. Glenn helped serve, and Tara was trying to steal the bowl of rolls, but Eric had chided her, and she stopped. They'd divvied up the food, Rosita had shed the blanket she'd been wearing, and they all enjoyed the meal.

"So," Aaron remarked halfway through the dinner, clearing his throat, "I know you all know we called you here for more than simply dinner."

"And freezing our booties off?" Glenn teased, not wanting to cuss in front of the baby.

He chuckled. "Yes."

"You're our family," Eric continued for his husband, "and we wanted you to be a part of this big decision we've made."

"What kind of decision?" Carol inquired.

"We talked about adoption," Aaron answered. "We've been together for six years, and we've always talked about it, but last night we had a serious discussion about it. We've decided to adopt, and we did."

"You..." Rosita stammered. "You—you're parents?"

Eric shared a secret smirk with his husband at Rosita's exclamation. "Yes, we are."

"Would you like to meet him?" Aaron stood up.

"Wait, wait." Glenn held a hand out. "How have you managed to keep a child hidden from us? We've been here four hours. There's no way you have a kid here."

"What do you think Eric's been doing down here? It doesn't take constant care to tend to a roast." Aaron headed to the bedroom and retrieved the boy.

"It takes more than one night to gain custody of a child," Rosita pointed out. "Unless you bought it on the black market for babies."

Maggie laughed. "I honestly don't know what to think right now, so I'm just gonna wait till he's out here."

Aaron returned with the boy, Carol shot out of her seat to go over to him, and Tara busted out laughing with Eric. The boy was the most adorable and tiny black Jack Russel terrier puppy. It was the most precious little puppy bundle in the room, and Carol couldn't wait to hold him. Aaron carefully handed the nine week old pup over to her, Rosita rushed over to hold it next, and Glenn hopped up to introduce Lauren to the newest member of their group.

"He's so cute." Carol stroked his soft ears.

"He's precious." Rosita smiled at Aaron. "I thought you really got a baby. I was going to have a stroke."

"We did get a baby," Eric corrected, "just not a human one."

"True." She was handed the puppy, and she had to resist squeezing the life out of him. "What's his name?"

"Buttons." Aaron grinned at his husband.

"Hi, Buttons." Tara ran her hand over his little back. "I'm Tara, and I'm gonna kidnap you."

"Over my dead body." Rosita met her eyes. "I'm taking him."

"We'll see about that, Espinosa."

"Hey, Buttons." Glenn adjusted the infant in his arms. "This is Lauren. You'll get used to her once we take you home."

"Stop trying to kidnap my dog." Aaron crossed his arms. "It took Eric a month to pick what breed of dog then the color and then from whom he was going to buy the pup from. I can't relive that process."

"You wouldn't decide," Eric retorted. "You kept saying you didn't care."

"I didn't." He still didn't.

"I thought your apartment had a strict no animal policy." Maggie kissed the little puppy's head, her heart flooding with warmth and love at the little yawn he'd given.

"It does." Eric joined the huddle of his friends. "Which is why we called you here."

"We're moving." Aaron laced his fingers through his husband's. "We'll still be in Philly, and we found a great townhouse, so don't panic. The PPD would fall to pieces without me."

"Yeah, sure." Tara rolled her eyes. "You are the glue that holds PPD together."

"I know." He smirked.

"Do you need help moving?" Rosita looked at Eric. "I have free time on my hands, and I don't mind. I have no plans anytime soon."

"That'd be great. We're moving out in a couple weeks, so we have to get this place packed up quickly. Our super isn't a nice guy, so the more help the better." Eric smiled. "I'll buy lunch and drinks. It'll be fun."

"Of course we'll help you guys out." Glenn rocked back and forth to lull his fussy daughter. "After all you've done for us, how could we not?"

"Thank you guys. I knew we could count on you all."

"And don't worry about food," Carol stated. "Shane's aunt owns a little deli, and she likes me, so I can get us lunch."

"I don't want to make you accidentally run into Shane." Aaron pointed out. "Unless you want to...?"

"Shane doesn't eat there. He said he had enough of her sandwiches when he was a kid." She shrugged a shoulder. "I won't see him there. I'm sure of it."

"And if he is there? What are you going to do then?"

"Duck and cover." She gestured to Buttons. "Or throw the dog at him. He has a weakness for dogs, so I can distract him with Buttons here."

"Our dog will not be your distraction."

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

"Pretty please?"

"No!"

"Fine, but if we end up sleeping together, it's your fault."

"How is that my fault?"

"I'm vulnerable when it comes to him, I know how the sex is, and if I'm wearing my hair up and am in a tank top—which I will be to haul boxes and chairs—Shane won't say no." He always did love when she pulled her hair back. He liked how it exposed her neck. "So that's on you."

"Dear God, fine. If only to not have you—and more importantly _us_ —relive the last two and a half months."

"Thank you." She hugged him from the side. "And congratulations. He's beautiful."

"I know. My husband has good taste." He smiled sweetly at Eric who was distracted with Buttons and trying to stop him from nibbling on Lauren's little sock, and his heart swelled.

Carol rested her chin on his shoulder, her fingers linked together on his other shoulder, and she smiled at the sight of her family. She released Aaron and went to help Eric gently free Lauren's sock.

––

Near eight they began to trickle out of the apartment, Glenn and Maggie had to get Lauren home and ready for bed, Tara had to get up for court, so Rosita offered to drive her home, and Carol lingered until ten then headed out with a brief goodbye to the guys and their baby Buttons.

She walked home, knowing it could prove to be dangerous, but she wasn't in the mood to track down a taxi, and she had let Rosita drive them here. She didn't let Aaron or Eric know, or they would have demanded she let them drive her home. She didn't want to be fussed over, and honestly being alone right now was a blessing.

She eventually ambled her way back to the apartment, unlocking the door and finding herself in total darkness. "Tara?" She felt around for the light switch at the end of the hall and tripped over a pair of abandoned sneakers. "Damn it, Tara, I told you to move your fucking shoes!"

There was no reply, not even to her yelling, and Carol kicked them away, pushing hair from her eyes, and she leaned against the wall. She was so grouchy here lately, so emotional, and even this made her want to cry. She didn't know who or what to blame it on, likely her period, but she hoped it passed. The last thing she wanted to do was have her roommate walk in on her crying alone in the dark on the floor.

She rubbed at her eye and climbed to her feet, minding the shadow of the shoes, and she headed to her bedroom to get some sleep. Right, her roommate wasn't here to give a shit, so why not cry like a baby over tripping on shoes? God, she nearly hoped she did run into Shane when she went to his aunt's deli. And it wasn't because she was lonely or upset. She had questions, so many questions, and only he could provide the answers—given that she didn't chew his head off the moment she saw him, or wept like a baby whose favorite binky had just been stolen.

She flopped face first down onto the bed and groaned softly. She hoped wherever Tara was, she was having a much better time than her right now.

––

Rosita had asked Tara to come over to talk, and of course there were drinks to ease the conversation along and to bolster confidence. Tara had left her shoes and jacket by the door, and Rosita was sitting across from her on the couch with a glass of wine. She didn't know if Rosita had a deal with local liquor stores or what, but the woman always had some type of wine. Was that what she spent her paychecks on? Wine, coffee and clothes?

"I want to talk to you." Rosita set her half-empty glass down. "You said it was on the table, but we didn't have to act on it, right?"

"Yes, I did." Tara nodded.

"And if we do, we just...do?"

"What do you want to talk about?"

"How does this work? Do I just say let's do it or kiss you, and that's it? Or do...we do dinner and drinks and all of that?"

"Would it make you feel more comfortable if we did?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"Wait." Tara held up a hand. "Have you been thinking about it?"

"Well, yeah." She polished off her second glass of wine since entering the apartment and held it to her chest. "Haven't you?"

"Not really. We've been busy with the cases, and I barely have a moment to rest." She shrugged a shoulder. And she spent every waking hour trying to not fucking think about it. If their friends found out they slept together, it would be open season on them. Aaron and Glenn and Carol would give them hell or want to know how it was or if it meant anything, and honestly Tara couldn't answer that.

"Oh." She refilled her glass and let her hair down from the clip it'd been in all day. "Have you had better?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"I'm curious. We all have people who we've enjoyed more. Who was yours?"

"Even if I had one, I wouldn't tell you."

"Everyone has one. That one person who the mere thought of them just...arouses you." She smiled at Tara. "I have two."

"Big shock."

"One was this guy I met in New York, and out of the few women I've been with, I'd said you."

She blinked. "Me?"

"Yeah." She peered at Tara through her lashes. "You're one of the better kissers too, if you were wondering."

"You're not so bad yourself."

"I was so drunk that night, I probably was terrible."

"A terrible kisser, or terrible in bed?" Tara teased, and Rosita smiled softly. "You don't have to try and keep score, Rosita."

"I know I don't, but I don't understand what we—or this—is." She moistened her lips."I don't do relationships, Tara. You know that, so I need to know what to call this. I'm already anxious because you're a good friend, and my thoughts aren't ones directed at a friend."

"Then stop trying to label it. We are what we are, and the rest will work itself out. You want to label it so you can file it away under a long list of other relationships that you ended before anything could happen, good or ill." She stood up, and Rosita flinched. "It doesn't have to meet a bitter end."

"Are you leaving?"

"No."

She nodded.

Tara walked around the coffee table and sat beside her, moving the wine and the glass. "We had enough at Aaron and Eric's. You'll be hungover tomorrow if you don't stop."

Rosita turned to face her and she leaned over, stopping only for a moment when her lips were an inch from Tara's. She swallowed and kissed her, Tara responded automatically, and she lost track of her thoughts and her fears. She leaned over so that Tara was on her back, and she cupped her cheek, parting her lips gently with her tongue, and she drew a soft moan from the woman underneath her. She was surprised to hear it over the pounding in her chest.

Rosita kissed her deeper, her hand trailing down to the end of Tara's shirt, but Tara's hand stopped her. She opened her eyes and found Tara looking at her. She frowned. "What is it?"

"Not tonight." She slipped her fingers through Rosita's. "Let's just take it slow, okay?"

"Slow?"

"I think it'd be best if we ease into this." She searched those jets for any signs of Rosita feeling rejected or unwanted, and she spotted a little bit of both among the curves in those orbs. She reached up and stroked her cheek, kissing her forehead. "There's always tomorrow anyway."

A weak smile. "I don't know if I can do this sober," she divulged.

"We'll take it slow." Tara traced a lazy circle into her cheek tenderly. "We'll have dinner, maybe have coffee, and we'll see where it goes. Nice and slow. You don't need to feel pressured to do anything, and stop thinking about the fallout. Just be here. Be here with me."

She leaned down and kissed her. "I can do that."

"I know." She pulled her back in for another kiss when her phone rang, and she sighed. "I hope someone's dead."

Rosita giggled. "I'm not sober enough for that."

"True." She sat up, Rosita on her lap, and she answered her phone. "Chambler."

"Hey." It was Boss.

"What is it, Boss?" She listened as he talked to her briefly about the Halloween party Aaron had suggested they had, and he put her in charge of handling it. "Sure. I'll get right on it."

"I knew I could count on you."

"Yeah."

"You have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

"You too, Boss." She hung up and tossed her phone onto the table. "I had to plan a Halloween party."

"We can do that together. I love Halloween."

"Me too." She studied Rosita and kissed her once more. "I have to go."

"What? Why?"

"It's pretty late, and if I'm going to look good when we go out, I need to get some rest, but I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tara, don't leave just yet. It's barely eleven."

"You need to sleep all the wine off."

"Just stay a little longer. We'll have to work tomorrow, and we'll barely see each other. I really wanted to spent time with you alone this weekend."

"So did I," she admitted in a whisper.

"So...just stay."

"Only for another hour. I need to get some sleep, and so do you."

"Whatever you say, detective." She crushed her mouth against Tara's.

– – –

"You ladies look like the walking dead." Glenn was sucking down his forth coffee. "It's good to know I'm not alone."

"So much wine." Rosita avoided eye contact as she released the whine, trying not to reveal that she and Tara had spent a good majority of the night together. Granted they kept their clothes on and kept it as close to high school as they could. It was still nice to be that close to her, to touch her and kiss her, and she loved to make Tara moan. The sound of it drove her insane, and she had to keep it in the back of her mind, because she couldn't take Tara in the bathroom. One there wasn't a lock, and two Tara wasn't the type of woman she ever wanted to screw in the bathroom. Maybe after their dinner, Tara wouldn't mind if they sped things up just a little. She wanted to know what it was like between them when they were both sober, when she could feel Tara's hands gliding over body...

She scolded herself and focused on her work, ending that train of thought.

"I couldn't sleep period." Carol sighed. "It was terrible. I just want to pass out right now, not budget candy for the Halloween party that isn't for another month, and I have no clue what I'm even going to wear."

"I'm going to be a homicidal manic." Tara scribbled out a list for the party. "It's cheap, because they look like normal people."

"Great, I'll be the cop to arrest you then." Carol smirked at her.

"Okay." Tara sat up. "But toy handcuffs only, okay? I don't want to get locked in mine again."

"Again?" Aaron looked up from his paperwork. "What happened the last time?"

"Yes, do tell." Rosita set her pen down.

"It wasn't anything sexual," Tara assured them. "My niece locked me in them by accident. She lost the key, and I had to find Carol to unlock me. It would have been a lot less scarring if Carol wasn't using her own on Shane."

"What?" Glenn exclaimed. "You? And Shane?"

Carol glared at her friend. "You said you wouldn't say anything, you asshole."

"I'm tired," Tara apologized. "And you didn't bring me any coffee this morning."

"Wait, it's true." Rosita grinned. "You and Shane used your handcuffs in bed?"

Carol flushed. "Okay, yeah, we did. Who here hasn't?"

"I think I'm the only one," Tara replied somewhat sheepishly, and no one protested. "Seriously?"

"It was Maggie's birthday." Glenn shrugged a shoulder.

"Eric was curious to see if they hurt," Aaron explained, "and then one thing lead to another..."

"I had a really kinky boyfriend once." Rosita smiled at the memory. "Very kinky."

Tara glared. "I don't need the details."

"Good." Carol stood up and headed to the break room, but the mere thought of tasting that coffee made her stomach start packing up for Canada. "I'm going to just buy us coffee. I can't stomach that."

"The boys had Starbucks today, so just get us girls some." Rosita hopped up. "And tell us how Shane got you to use handcuffs on him."

"You pay, and I will."

"Here." She tossed her wallet at Carol. "Now spill."

She pulled out her credit card and tossed the wallet back to her. "He didn't talk me into it." She smirked and sauntered out of the building.

Aaron grinned. "Seems like Rosita and Maggie aren't the only ones with kinks."

– – –

Carol ordered their usual coffees, using Rosita's card to pay for it, and she snickered at the expressions her coworkers gave at her confession. Shane wanted to use handcuffs too, but she was the one who brought it up in the first place. It was a stormy day, they had nothing else to do, and she was curious too the first time. Shane was the only man she trusted to do that with. Maybe one day there would be someone else, but until then she would reflect on that day.

"Have a nice day, Carol," Jessie called to the detective after giving her her usual coffee along with one for Rosita and Tara. She knew all the detectives in her unit by name. They probably spent entire checks here if she tallied it all up every month or so.

"You too. Thanks." Carol slipped her phone into her pocket and turned, bumping into someone and sending their drink flying. She quickly steadied the coffees in the holder she held and winced at her actions. "I am so sorry."

"Nah, it's all right." He faced her, shaking hot liquid off his hand. "Just that kinda day."

Her eyes swept over his face, meeting aquamarine eyes that were bitterly laughing at the situation, or possibly his luck. She did a once over, taking in his short chestnut hair and goatee, a mole resting to the upper right of his mouth, and his sun-kissed skin accentuated his features even more.

"You all right? Didn't get any on you?" He glanced her over but didn't see any signs of his coffee having gotten on her.

"No. No, I'm fine." She smiled shyly. "I'm really sorry. I'll—I'll buy you another cup, if you'd like."

"Won't say no to that." He returned her smile as they got back in line. "I'm Daryl, by the way."

"Carol." She held her hand out, meeting his less used left hand as the right was still damp with coffee.

He caught a glimpse of her a badge. "You're a cop?"

She looked down, her hand somewhat protectively moving to cover her badge. "Yeah, homicide."

"Homicide? Impressive." He retrieved a napkin, wiping his hand off, giving an appreciative nod to the staff who cleaned up the spill and they both apologized again. "Thought I knew most of the cops around here. Guess I was wrong."

"Oh, _all_ of us?" She smirked. "You run into cops a lot, do you?"

"No, not me. My brother. He's...kind of an asshole, ain't too friendly to cops. He never has liked 'em to be honest, always provoked 'em when he could, but uh, he's straightened himself out ten years ago, so you ain't gotta worry about seeing him. Unless you got plumbing issues," he muttered the end to himself, balling up the napkin.

"Why the sudden change?"

"He went on a binger, and he almost didn't survive it. I think there's more to the story, but that's what he tells me." He paused. "Sorry, I dunno know why I'm tellin' you this."

"I asked."

"Yeah, you did." He ran his eyes over her face. "You have an open face, and I bet a lot of people tell you their troubles and life stories right off the bat."

"Sometimes." She nodded. "Other times I have to be a bit more aggressive."

"Guess bein' a big time Philly cop helps." He moved forward in line.

"So does the gun."

He chuckled. "I'll trust you on that."

"All right, you know I'm a cop. What do you do?"

"Carpenter, but I lend my brother a hand now and then. I wanna start a company of my own, but baby steps, right?"

"I'm sure you'll get there, Daryl."

He smiled again. "Thanks for the confidence, Carol."

"I wasn't being sarcastic." She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Neither was I."

They made their way through the line, Daryl gave his order and scratched his nose, and Jessie winked at Carol when Daryl wasn't looking. Carol sent her a glare, Jessie silently laughed, and Carol paid for his coffee. He tried to stop her, but she said she would pay to make up for knocking the other out of his hand. She didn't go back on her word. He thanked her and walked her to the door, but they were each heading in opposite directions, and that's where they parted.

"It was nice meeting you." Carol squinted at the bright sunlight in her eyes, adjusting the cup holder in her hand, managing to balance the coffee holder with hers, Tara's and Rosita's coffees to shake his hand goodbye. "I'm sorry about how we met."

"It's all right." He drank from his cup then tipped it toward her. "Mm, thanks."

"You're welcome. Have a good day."

"You too." He studied her again. "It was good to meet you."

"Goodbye." She turned on her heel and sauntered back towards her car, tempted to look back at him once more. She couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips, and she peeked over her shoulder, watching him weave through the people on the street, and for a brief second their eyes met as he turned to look at her. She laughed to herself and turned back, heading onward with a grin on her lips. It certainly was good to meet him.


	12. Ezra

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"So this isn't a cold case?" Carol leaned against her desk, reviewing the file of their latest victim.

"It's a few degrees short of being cold." Tara pinned the picture of the young man on the murder board. "We have no body, no murder weapon and no suspects, not even to interview."

"Then how do we know a murder even took place?" Aaron shifted his weight as he drank from his blue PPD mug.

"Because when they were clearing out an apartment building to be torn down, they found blood. A lot of blood." She showed them the pictures CSU had taken. "It lit up like a Christmas tree."

"Does it belong to the same person?" Glenn had the tablet and was comparing the photos.

"Yes."

"It's all amassed on this wall." Rosita gestured to where the massive pile of junk used to rest. "The rest is splatter."

"So we can assume this all belongs to Ezra Neil?" Glenn requested. "The last person to rent that apartment?"

"No." Tara shook her head and held the file to her chest. "That's why Boss isn't here. He had to go down and personally solve this for us."

"Meaning?" Carol left a pause for Tara to jump in and answer.

"Ezra Neil is an alias," Tyreese answered, entering the bullpen. "He doesn't exist."

"With a name like Ezra Neil, of course it's fake." Rosita ignore the look Tara shot her. "So, who was he?"

Tyreese shook his head. "There is no he on file."

"What?" Carol's lips tilted downward. "We have his information."

"All forged." He rested a hand on his hip. "Ezra Neil was born Amber Carson."

"He was born a she?" Tara gaped. "The pool of suspects just widened, and we had none!"

"Did you find the parents?" Aaron set his mug down. "Or contact them? If not, Carol and I will go and talk to them, see if they knew who their son was hanging around, who didn't approve of his change."

"Well, you better pack an overnight bag then." He smiled at knowing how they hated road trips. "They live in Florida. Ezra ran away to Philly four years ago."

"Oh God, please no." Carol held her hand up to plead to her boss to not send her to sunny hell. "I didn't offer myself up. Aaron did, so send him and his partner!"

"I have a baby," Glenn protested. "She needs her dad. She won't let Maggie bathe her, and nobody wants a stinky baby."

"Then take Tara. She needs a tan, and people love her."

"No way." Rosita tensed at her outburst when she realized it was her, and she shrank back.

"Why not? She loves road trips, or...plane trips." Carol smiled sweetly at Tara to try and butter her up. "You know you do."

"I just—I mean, I thought you said Rosita," she lied, wincing at her own performance. "I only heard the end a. I was zoned out. My bad."

They all stared at her flagrant lie, Tara shook her head in disappointment, and Tyreese studied the young detective very closely until she squirmed and dove to hide behind her computer screen. Carol opened her mouth to both question Rosita and plead to remain in Philly when Tyreese decided then Carol and Aaron would go, Tara and Glenn would speak to any friends Ezra had made down here, and Rosita and he would hit the streets and see if anybody knew Ezra in that neighborhood.

"You're in this too, Boss?" Aaron's brows shot up.

"He would have been twenty years old," Tyreese replied. "He was just a kid, and he's been pushed to the side long enough. We have no body, no murder weapon, and no one to haul in and question, no way to pin point at age he died, so it's all hands on deck. We aren't going to let this murderer get away with killing a child. Not on my watch, so Peletier and Raleigh, get your bags packed. You have a flight to the Sunshine State. Call us with good news."

"Yes, sir." Carol called as he and Rosita bustled out of the bullpen.

"And no funny business," Glenn mused, always loving the reaction Aaron and Carol gave when someone joked about two people fooling around while being sent off somewhere.

"I don't know. It's been a while for me. I might not be able to resist those curls." Carol collected her jacket. "He's so cute."

"Trust me, if the head cheerleader couldn't "turn me", neither can you." He paused and gestured to her. "You're hotter too."

"Well, thank you." She smiled.

"Well, we'll both be hotter in Florida." He smirked, and she glared at him. "Aw, come on. How did you not see that coming?"

"You're an asshole, and for that, you're not driving."

"All right, Peletier, but let me kiss my husband before you kill me with your angry driving."

Glenn and Tara couldn't hear the end of that banter as the elevator doors slid shut, Glenn chuckled and began to look into Ezra, and Tara felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She knew it had to be either Carol or Rosita, so she stepped into the break room. If she was going to be surprised or embarrassed, the last thing she wanted was Glenn asking her what was wrong.

It was Rosita, and she opened the message.

 _Carol's going to Florida, so why don't we meet at your place tonight?_

Tara narrowed her eyes at the message and texted back what for.

 _You'll just have to see._ There was a winking emoji.

Tara rolled her eyes and chuckled, smiling to herself. Well, Carol might hate the Sunshine State, but it might prove to be good to Tara. She had a case to work but until Carol and Aaron gave them information there was nothing they could do. When she was in this building, she was going to bust her ass to do her job, but while she was at home? Well, while she was at home, that was an entirely different story.

– – –

"You look uncomfortable." Aaron glanced over at Carol as they awaited take off. "Not a fan of flying?"

"With our cheap seats, yes." She slouched in her seat. "But...I'm just...kicking myself is all."

"Why? Does it involve Shane?"

"No."

"The tall guy you slept with?"

"No. No, it's not tall guy or Shane." She smiled faintly. "It's this other...guy I met."

"A new guy?" He straightened in his seat to observe Carol actually being interested in a man since Shane. "You like him?"

"I don't know him, but I think I could if I did know him. We talked for about a minute, but it was nice. He was nice and handsome and seems like a decent guy."

"Okay, why are you kicking yourself then? Did you blurt out you screwed some random guy in a club? Or that your boyfriend of three years dumped you?"

"Neither." She rehashed the events at the coffee shop, wanting to kick herself all over again. "And I didn't get his number."

"Oh." He nodded. "Well, you're an idiot."

"I know. I just know his name, and unless I stake out Starbucks—which I don't have time to do—I won't see him again." She let out a soft moan. "With my lucky, I'd probably meet his brother."

"Why not just ask Jessie? She talks to everybody, and she might know more about him."

"Isn't that a little desperate and needy?"

"Yes, but if he has eyes, he'll be flattered."

"I'm not really a catch, Aaron."

"Carol, don't make me go on a self-esteem rant. I planned to sleep through this flight, but I will lecture you. I'll channel my inner Glenn and lecture the shit out of you."

She giggled. "I'm good. Just rest."

He searched her eyes. "Before I do, I have a question. One I want you to answer honestly."

Her smile faded. "What?"

"Are you over him now?"

She inhaled and nodded. "I think I am. I'm ready to date other men, and I'm actually looking forward to it. If Shane were to come to my door and begging for me to come back, I would deny him."

"Or you could sleep with him and then deny him," Aaron mused.

"Yeah, that too, but that's Rosita's approach."

"Yeah." He leaned toward her. "Speaking of Rosita, she was odd today in the meeting."

"She was so against Tara coming with you," Carol agreed. "I've never seen her do that before. Normally she's the one eager to take a road trip."

"Do you think she found some poor sap and has scheduled a double date with him and a friend for her and Tara?"

"I hope not. Those never go well. She tried to drag me out to one, but I had Shane to stop her. Oof, poor Tara. I wouldn't want to be her tonight."

– – –

Aaron and Carol had arrived in Florida, but they had mess to deal with before they could speak with the Carsons. Boss and Rosita found a few people who knew Ezra, and Glenn and Tara scheduled them to come in tomorrow as it was already going on eleven. Boss didn't trust that these people weren't just trying to punk them, so they'd wait and see who showed up tomorrow morning to weed out the assholes.

Tara unlocked the door to her apartment and kicked her shoes off, dumping her jacket on the couch. She saw a note on the wall from Carol asking her not to trash the apartment while she was away, and Tara smiled then rolled her eyes. She balled it up and heard a knock on the door.

She found it was Rosita. "Hey."

"Hey." She leaned up and kissed her. "Are you ready?"

"I just got home."

"Well, get changed. I have a reservation."

"At a restaurant?" Tara headed to her bedroom to change out of her clothes.

"Yeah. They have the best ziti, and it's not that expensive."

"What does that mean?"

"You and Carol both buy food, so just don't let her know you can't afford food for a bit."

"Rosita!" She stuck her head to glare at her. "No, we aren't going to some place I have to sell my soul to eat a small meal at!"

"I was kidding. It has decent prices and portions. You'll like it." She smiled at her. "We can swing by this little coffee shop I found my first year in Philly. They have the best lattes, and afterward...we can come back here."

"We're not having sex."

"I didn't say we had to," Rosita retorted. "Maybe I just want to cuddle."

"You cuddle?"

"When I'm not drunk and you're not hanging off the bed, yeah." She was blushing. "I don't always want sex, Tara."

"I know, but the way you cut off Carol today in the meeting kind of gave me—and the entire damn team—pause."

"It was an accident! We had plans tonight, and I didn't want you sent down there for God only knows how long."

"With how cheap our department is," Tara called back, "they'd probably only keep us there two days at the most. If we went onto night three, there would be no more out-of-state trips for the rest of the year."

She laughed. "That's true."

A few minutes later and Tara came out of her bedroom in black pants and a white blouse, her hair down around her shoulders. Rosita smiled fondly at her, and Tara reached out to rest her hands on Rosita's hips, bringing her flush against her.

"So, you don't want to sleep together tonight either?"

"I won't push, but if it were to happen, I wouldn't be too upset about it." She met Tara's chocolate eyes. "I just want to do something with you tonight. We could stay in and watch movies with takeout for all I care."

"Maybe tomorrow if Carol and Aaron are delayed again."

She grinned. "I'd love to."

Tara leaned down and kissed her softly, Rosita reached up and cupped her hands behind Tara's neck, and something crackled between them. The kiss that had originally meant to be short and sweet burned into one that was hungry and fervent. Rosita pulled Tara even closer, carefully coaxing her lips open with her tongue, and she threaded her fingers through Tara's short but soft locks, her thumb brushing along the arch of her cheekbone.

They tripped backwards and thankfully were caught by the wall, not the end table by the couch, and Rosita felt a slight discomfort by her shoulder blade hitting the wall, but she ignored it as Tara's hands traveled up from her hips. She gasped slightly at Tara's hands caressing her breasts, and she broke their kiss, their lips only inches apart, and she didn't open her eyes as Tara's thumbs gently traced her nipples. She dug her nails in, inadvertently causing Tara to wince.

"Sorry," she breath, opening her eyes to meet Tara's.

"I'm not." She caught Rosita's lips once more, her hands sliding up and behind to her shoulders, finding the button that held her dress up. She felt the smirk Rosita gave as her dress floated down her body and pooled at her feet, leaving her only in lace thigh highs and black heels and lacy black underwear.

Rosita leaned against the walls, cocking her head to the side and smiling very innocently, as if she weren't almost entirely nude in her best friend's living room. "Do you wanna just cuddle now?"

Tara returned her smile. "You think I won't stop and just cuddle with you? Do you really want to test that theory?"

Rosita laughed and kissed her. "I don't."

"Good." She laced her fingers through Rosita's, and she searched her eyes for a moment, and Rosita's eyes thinned. "You really are gorgeous, Espinosa."

She flushed. "Shut up." She said it softly, like a girl whose crush just said she was pretty.

"Never." She lifted her chin with her fingertips so that Rosita had to meet her gaze, and she leaned down to slowly, to tenderly, kiss her. She took her time with this kiss, memorizing the curves of her lips, the movement, and she tasted a natural sweetness there. She savored it as if this were the last time she'd kiss anybody, and it left Rosita breathless.

Rosita was panting, her heart pounding in an unfamiliar way, and her eyes fluttered open. "What was that?"

Tara smirked. "I told you we were taking things slow." She leaned down and sealed those scarlet lips with her own.

– – –

Aaron and Carol met with Ezra's parents the next morning, Carol noticed all the pictures of their victim were gone, and only pictures of the parents remained. Aaron noticed it too, and he knew what happened here all too well. He knew it wasn't going to be a pretty conversation, especially if they called this child a sicko or freak of nature or an agent of Satan or any of those. He wasn't one to hold his tongue, even in the face of grieving parents who were insulting his people. He was glad to have Carol here. She was a bit more level-headed than him, put the job first when she was here, and he couldn't chew anyone's head off with her calling the shots.

"Mr. and Mrs. Carson." She shook their hands. "I'm Detective Peletier, and this is Detective Raleigh. PPD."

"What brings you here?" Mr. Carson inquired, not letting them inside.

"It's about your son," Aaron began.

"We don't have any sons." He made the shut the door, but his wife stopped him. "Bet, don't."

"What do you have to tell us about...that?" She glanced nervously at her husband then back to the detectives.

"Could we talk inside?" Carol could see the husband wasn't interested.

Mr. Carson scoffed and stomped off to the kitchen, but Bet let them inside and showed them into the living room. Aaron sat down in the armchair beside Carol while Bet sat on the couch, and eventually Mr. Carson lurked back into the room, and Carol could see he made Aaron uncomfortable. She decided to take point, pulling out her notepad and pen.

"When was the last time you saw your child?" Carol would avoid pronouns with Daddy Dearest in the room.

"About four years ago." She rested her hands in her lap. "We didn't talk much before...well, before I found the room empty."

" _Her_ ," Mr. Carson spat at his wife. " _Her_ room. She left when she was sixteen, going through an extreme tomboy phase. We wouldn't have it, and she left."

Bet winced, but only Aaron and Carol saw it. "Right. S...he wasn't happy, and we weren't making life easy for...for her, so she walked out. She packed up the necessary items, stole the money I have saved in my bureau and skipped town while we were at church. We haven't heard a word since."

"Why are you asking about her?" Mr. Carson glowered at the pair of detectives on his furnishings. "What the hell did she do now?"

"Well, she's dead, sir," Aaron flatly returned the man's growling tone.

Bet's face fell instantly, her hand reaching up to cover her mouth, and she bawled. "Oh, my baby."

Mr. Carson lowered his eyes. "She—she's dead?"

"We found where they were staying," Aaron replied. "The room was covered in their blood. We haven't found the body, but with that amount of blood loss, we're certain your child didn't survive."

Mr. Carson narrowed his eyes. "They? Their? Why the hell are you talking like that? She. Her. We had a little girl. Bright hazel eyes, blonde hair. That was our little girl."

"In the last few years, your child underwent surgery," Carol informed them. "Amber was known as Ezra."

"Ezra?" Bet whimpered.

"Oh, for God's sake." Mr. Carson shook his head. "So when we bury our kid, she won't even be a girl? We'll have to have a closed casket."

Aaron ground his teeth.

"What happened to my baby?" Bet demanded through her tears. "Where is my baby's body?"

"We don't know yet. We were hoping to find out if they spoke to anybody? Were close to anyone here? We can take our investigation from there."

"No," Mr. Carson answered while his wife said, "Yes."

"Who?" Carol readied her pen.

"Sonni St. Clair. They were best friends since they were in grade school." She snuffled. "She moved down to Philly after high school. Is—is that where my Ezra went? To Philly?"

"Yes." Carol nodded.

"Don't call her that," Mr. Carson stopped. "You always gave into her queer habits. This is your fault. If we have just put her on a schedule and made her keep to it, she wouldn't have been like this."

"Like what?" Aaron seethed. "Human?"

"A perversion."

Carol reached over and set a hand on Aaron's arm to calm him. "We have a couple more questions then we'll be on our way. We're so sorry to have to ask these questions."

Bet nodded. "Just find out what happened to my baby."

Carol continued with the interview, Aaron kept his mouth screwed up, and Mr. Carson kept an eye on Carol's hand that remained on Aaron's arm for the duration of the interview. When it was time to leave, Carol asked to see Ezra's room, and Bet was happy to show her. It hadn't been touched since before Ezra slipped out on them.

The room was a light blue with a mixture of sports equipment and notepads littered with science. Carol saw the awards he'd won for science fairs and ribbons for essays. She smiled at the happiness she knew Ezra felt in doing these tasks. With how his father had been, it was no wonder the boy had plunged himself into anything else.

"He adores...adored science." Bet smiled as Carol fingered a blue first place ribbon. "He was brilliant. I always knew he'd do something great with his life, and...I suppose I won't know if I was right or not. I know I would have been. With a passion like his, there's no room for doubt."

Carol smiled. "You call him him?"

She nodded. "I knew...there was something different about my child when he was about four. I can't explain how I knew, but I did. I leaned less and less towards the ballet lessons and twirly skirts I had planned to put her through, and on his fifth birthday, he told me he was wrong. I asked what do you mean, and he said he wasn't meant to be like this." She shrugged. "I didn't care if he wanted to dye his hair piss yellow or get a million tattoos of monkeys on his ass, just as long as he was happy. He was my little miracle baby, and I felt blessed to just have him."

"Miracle baby?"

"Everyone told me I was barren. I was never going to have kids, that I should just accept it and adopt." She shook her head, tears in her eyes at the picture of her short-haired angel grinning on the beach in a t-shirt and shorts. "But one day...it hit me all at once. Sore breasts, morning sickness, heightened sense of smell and the bladder the size of a pea."

Carol laughed. "You were pregnant with him?"

"I was thrilled. I was careful the entire pregnancy, and Lance was so caring. He'd take time off work to take care of me if I have a slight fever." She rubbed her hands together. "We were blessed. We really were."

"Then Amber...figured out how she was wrong," Carol filled in the blanks.

"He still had an interest in boys, and to be honest some girls too. Hmm... Anyway, he still did a few girly things now and then—mostly to please Lance—but I could tell he wasn't happy." She lowered her voice. "Could I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"He didn't steal from my bureau," she confided. "I gave him the money. I bought him a bus ticket to Philly, because I had a good friend there, and I made Lance come out with me that night. Oh, I missed my angel, but I didn't want him to struggle through life. I wanted to see that happy, toothy smile he used to give me as a baby, and I had hoped one day I'd see it again...but I suppose not."

Carol sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her. "I'm so sorry."

"Me too."

Outside in the hall by the front door stood Aaron and Lance, silently waiting for the girls to come back, and Aaron could feel the taller, older man sizing him up. He hoped Carol came back soon, because he didn't want to speak to this man, not even in the slightest bit. He hoped he didn't talk to him. He really, really hoped he kept his damn mouth shut. Unless it involved Ezra or any of his friends.

Mr. Carson smirked at Aaron. "It's bad business, you know."

Aaron tried not to be annoyed, but he didn't like this man. "What is, sir?"

"You and her." He nodded his head to where Carol and Bet were.

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean."

"Don't worry. I'm not judging you. We all...stray now and then, and if I was a few years younger, I wouldn't say no to her either."

Aaron opened his mouth to snap at the man when Carol and Bet returned, Carol said goodbye for both of them and lead Aaron gently out of the house. She handed him the stress ball she carried on road trips when she was bored, and he grunted as he squeezed it tightly.

At the hotel, Aaron and Carol made their way to his room, and she called Boss to let him know about their new lead while Aaron threw the stress ball against the wall and caught it. She told Boss and Glenn who were the only two currently in the office about the interview, about how callous Lance Carson had been in regards to his son's murder and what Bet had confessed, and Boss told them it was good work and to be on the next plane home.

Carol hung up and glanced at Aaron. "You okay?"

"No." He slugged the ball against the wall and let it fly forward without catching it. "His kid died, and all he cares about is hiding the shame of his once female now male kid. How can he be so cold? He held that little baby in his arms and promised to protect him, but the moment...that little baby says they don't feel like or they feel like this and it isn't normal—that's it. Get out. Goodbye. You're not my kid. Or the straight up refusal to respect their decision."

"I know it brings back a lot of unwanted memories, but...we can't control how ignorant people are. Maybe one day he'll realize his mistake and all he missed out on with his son."

"And if not?" He plopped down onto the bed beside where she sat and gazed up at her.

"Then it's his loss." She smiled at him. "Ezra sounded like a great kid, and I wish I could have met him."

He returned her smile. "He thought I was having an affair with you."

"What? Us?"

"Yep." He rested his hand on his chest and chuckled. "He really has no radar for this type of thing."

"I don't know. We'd have one cute kid." She brushed a hand through his hair, like he was a puppy she was petting. "A curly haired little mess of a child."

"Sorry, Carol, this isn't _Will and Grace._ "

She lied down beside him. "Well, thank God, because I don't have the energy to handle a Jack."

"Or a Karen."

She nodded and exhaled. "I'll call and get us some tickets. Why don't you make sure there's absolutely no one else here we have to talk to?"

"Yes, ma'am." He dragged himself and groaned. "I forgot to call Eric when we landed yesterday."

"Explain the shit storm we ran into, and I think he'll understand."

"Or he'll think we went all _Lost_ on him."

"He is pretty dramatic." Carol crossed her legs. "Just text him and call before we leave."

"I'll send a video. Proof it's us, and we're not dead."

"All right, but be careful. He might think we're lovers."

He laughed, and she giggled. "Well, you're clothed, so I don't think he'll jump to that conclusion."

"I'll try and look as innocent as possible." She called the airline and tapped her thumb on her ankle while it rang.

"Great innocent face."

"I know. He'll never know how much sex we didn't have down here."

He collected his phone and made a short video for his husband, Carol waved through her conversation, and he doubled check that they had no loose ends. He knew Mr. Carson wouldn't want anything to do with this case, but he wasn't sure about the wife. Her confession about helping her son run away made him wonder what else she did to help him escape. He wanted to talk to her again and alone, but he had no way of distracting Mr. Carson.

His eyes ran over Carol as she stretched out on the bed, and she moaned softly at how good it felt to not be cooped up in a car. "Hey, Carol?"

"Hmm?" She glanced over at him. "What is it?"

"I need a favor."

"Sure. What kind of favor?"

"You're not going to like it."

"Why not?"

"Well, it involves you and...a slightly revealing ensemble..."

––

"Their flight gets in this afternoon." Tara and Glenn entered the bullpen. "And Sonni will be here in a couple hours. Rosita and I will take her. Why don't you wait for Aaron and Carol? Carol texted me a bit ago and said they had some new information. She didn't seem happy about it."

"How do you know? It was a text."

"It wasn't a happy text."

He nodded. "Where's Rosita? I haven't seen her yet."

"Why are you asking me?" She sat at her desk. "It's not like I keep tabs on her."

"Oookaayyyy." He dropped into his chair. "I was just asking. If you two are fighting again, leave it outside the building, all right?"

"We're not fighting again. I just don't know why you expect me to know her every move."

"I...don't?" He frowned, brows meeting. "It was just a question. Why are you so snippy?"

"Er, PMS?" She averted her eyes and scribbled a note in the file about Bet Carson.

"Morning." Rosita glided in all smiles and looking like she'd just gotten laid, and Tara wanted to bang her head into the desk. "When do Carol and Aaron get back? I heard Boss say they were delayed."

"They'll be in by the afternoon." Glenn smirked at her. "But more on that later. Did you have fun playing Saturday on a Wednesday?"

She grinned. "A _lot_ of fun." She set her coffee down on the desk. "How are you two?"

"I'm okay. Lauren has a fever, and Maggie's taking care of her." Glenn seemed upset that he had to be here rather than with his poor sick baby girl. "I have to pick up some liquids for her on the way home."

"That's awful."

"She's sending me updates, but I'd rather be there." He sighed. "I hope it's a quick day."

"Why don't you stop by when you pick up lunch?" Rosita offered. "That little Thai place by your apartment building? I could use some Thai food. Right, Tara?"

"Yep. It's my favorite. I have a really strong craving too. Screw Aaron and Carol. They can fend for themselves."

He smiled. "Thanks, guys."

She nodded thoughtfully at him and headed to the break food to swipe a bagel, and Tara calmly barreled after her. She instantly smelled Tara's shampoo and goosebumps rose up on her skin at the memory of last night. She could still feel Tara's lips on her throat, and she had to really think about swallowing and breathing for a moment.

"What the hell are you doing?" Tara whispered in a hiss at the woman.

"Getting breakfast. What are you doing?"

"You might as well be wearing an _I got laid shirt_ with a neon sign hat!"

"So? I have sex and nobody blinks. But you? Or Carol? Those boys—and me—come down on you like crows on roadkill. It's normal for me to look like this, so chill out. You're going to give something away."

She sighed. "I suppose you're right."

"I am right." She stepped toward her. "And if you don't calm down, I think the good detectives will figure out what happened."

"I don't like hiding this."

"We have to. You know that." She reached over and set her fingertips over Tara's. "We'll be okay, just don't worry so much about getting caught. We're two consenting adults. They don't need to get involved."

She felt an odd hollowness brimming up in her chest at Rostia's wording. "We should get back to the case. Sonni will be in soon."

"I need to eat this quick then." She gestured to the bagel.

"Don't worry about it. Glenn and I will take this interview."

"Oh...sure. Good plan. You two make a good team." She leaned against the counter. "If you need me, you know where to find me."

"That I do." She sauntered out of the break room and over to her desk, frowning at the hollowness that remained, and she closed her eyes, trying to find the source of it. She had a slight idea where it had come from, and she hoped it didn't grow. Otherwise they would have a new problem on their hands.

Time appeared to be flying by, because soon Sonni was arriving to meet with the detectives. Tara and Glenn took the interview, and Rosita noted how surprised Glenn looked when Tara called to him. She decided to not bring it up just yet, and she returned to trying to track down one of Ezra's friends. She'd gotten his street name, and she was trying to find his real name and address. It was proving to be its own challenge.

"Sonni." Tara sat across from her the grey-eyed woman. "I'm glad you came down so quickly to meet with us."

"Of course. When you called and told me about Ezra, I knew I had to help." She laced her fingers together. "I had to tell you...his story."

"His story?" Glenn prodded.

"We'd been friends for years. At first she was like my sister then he was like my brother." She smiled somberly. "I knew his dad would never approve, and the older we got, the more he tried to change, the more we saw just how much Lance didn't approve, how much he'd fight it."

"What do you mean?" Tara leaned toward her.

"Well, we were in his room with the door shut, and I was helping him look at clinics. He wanted to take this step as soon as possible, and we'd worked the entire summer. He'd saved up money, and I was going to pitch in. I wasn't rich, but I was sixteen. I didn't need much money with my parents giving me an allowance and telling me all I had to do for a car was keep my grades up." She lowered her eyes. "Lance found us, and he snapped. I guess he thought Ezra was going through a tomboy phase, cutting off all that hair, ditching the dresses and the heels, but to see that wasn't the case, to see that it was beyond normal, beyond what Lance could comprehend, made him go crazy. He threw a fit, kicked me out of the house, and when I saw Ezra next...he had a busted lip and a black eye."

"He hit him?" Glenn could never fathom how a parent could raise a hand to their child with in the intend to hurt them. To cause them bodily harm to teach them a lesson? At sixteen years old, the worst thing Ezra could do was be himself and that worthy of punishment. No wonder he ran.

"He wouldn't say. He said it was nothing. It would heal." She blinked back tears. "I...knew then he had to get out of town. He and his mom made a plan, and I gave him the money I'd saved up over the summer. He could get an apartment with that much, and plus with what his mom gave him, he had a chance to start over."

"Were you going to visit him?" Tara scribbled out what Sonni told them.

"I had plans to the summer of my eighteenth birthday, but...my dad and my mom took me on a cruse. I wasn't able to come down then. I did write him, and I called when I could."

"Did you see him at all since he moved?"

"Once." She nodded. "After the surgery and all of it, I saw him. He was...happy, lively, like the child I knew growing up. I was so thrilled for him, and I made plans to move down here to be with him...to attend college with him and to forget our asshole parents...but by the time I got it sorted, he had vanished. I thought maybe Lance had found out where he was, and he had to run again, but..." She covered her mouth with her hand and the tears she'd been fighting since she started speaking spilled free.

"We'll find who did this," Tara assured her. "We'll do our best."

She nodded through her tears.

––

Tara and Glenn exited the interview room, Sonni had gone home with her friend, and Aaron and Carol were back. They told them what Sonni had shared, Carol knew Lance had been hiding something, and Rosita informed them of some very interesting information.

"He caught a flight to Philly?" Carol whirled around. "Now?"

"Yes, and back then too. He knew Ezra was here, and he came up. Only him."

"It seems like Daddy Dearest has something to get off his chest." Aaron tossed his notepad on his desk. "I don't want any part of that interview. Carol, Tara, or Glenn, Rosita, you can take him."

"Carol and Tara can take him." Rosita waved her thumb between her and Glenn. "We have to meet with Ezra's friend, Rodney Quinn."

"You found the Filmmaker?" Tara blinked. "How?"

"Like any creep, he had a website with his information on it. It was encrypted, but I worked my charms." She smirked. "He paid good money for that encryption, I'll say that much. Anyway, I called the number, and he set up a meeting. If it's him, we'll bring him in. If it's not, it's best I have backup."

"I could go with you," Tara offered.

"No, you and Carol should take Mr. Carson when he gets in, and for now you both have paperwork." She collected her coat. "We'll be back soon."

Carol and Aaron exchanged a look at how Tara and Rosita were acting, Glenn tossed a look over his shoulder, and they all wondered what had happened. They knew better than to flat out ask, but they truly hoped it wasn't another fight like the last one. That was a torturous month of their lives, and they couldn't reclaim that time, so if it was a fight, they were going to lock them in the interview room and make them work it out.

Glenn and Rosita met Rodney in the same neighborhood where Ezra used to live, and Glenn could tell Rodney was pleased to see Rosita looked hotter in person than over the phone. He also knew the moron couldn't tell they were PPD, so he flashed his badge, and that caused him to run.

Rosita and Glenn bolted after him, Rodney was actually pretty fast, but Glenn was faster. He caught him by the jacket, and came close to tripping and falling on him, but he used that momentum to whirl Rodney against the wall.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Rodney begged. "I can explain!"

"We aren't here about your little films," Rosita informed him. "We're here about Ezra Neil."

"Ez?" Rodney began to calm. "Yeah? Just him?"

"Yes, just him." Glenn let him go. "But if you run again, I'll take you down for your little films too."

"Whoa, whoa, I ain't touch Ez. He was my friend." He smoothed out his shirt that Glenn had rumpled. "We were cool."

"How well did you know Ezra?" Glenn demanded.

"I knew he didn't have all the right parts," Rodney retorted. "I helped him out."

"Just like that?" Rosita arched a brow. "Out of the kindness of your heart?"

"No, I made him pay me back. He was looker, both ways, and he got me some good...clients for my films." He cleared his throat. "We fell outta touch after he and that girl hooked up. I don't know where he is now, but I do know he's havin' a damn good time. She was smokin' hot."

"She? He had a girlfriend?"

"That's right. She was a mix of somethin', but I dunno what. She had black hair and grey eyes. She was head over heels for that boy." He chuckled. "Nobody else in the world existed save for Ez with that one."

"Long black hair, huh?" Rosita looked knowingly at Glenn.

He nodded. "She got real scared when Ez's Pops found 'em."

"Mr. Carson was here?" Glenn searched Rodney's face for any lies, but the man likely wasn't smart enough to lie properly. "He found this girl and Ezra together?"

"I didn't catch any names, just Ez callin' him dad. See, I was comin' over to see if Ez wanted to help me with my films, found his pops just goin' off on 'em, and he slapped Ez. He would have done more if I hadn't jumped in. Ez was a good guy—different, sure—but a good guy. He treated me like he treated everybody, like I was more than some hood rat, and I respect him for that." He heaved a sigh and it dawned on him then. "He's dead, isn't he?"

Rosita nodded. "We believe so."

His eyes grew glossy. "I thought it was weird for you to be askin' me about Ez instead of just findin' him yourselves." He sank down onto the ground. "Damn."

"I'm sorry for your loss, and thank you for time."

"Let's go." Glenn gently pulled Rosita away to let Rodney mourn his friend. "We have to call Carol and Tara and let them know about Lance."

"Prime suspect number one."

– – –

Carol informed Tara and Aaron what Glenn and Rosita had learned from Rodney, Aaron made a call to their smokin' black-haired woman, and Tara prepared herself to arrest the father of their suspect. She never thought she would have to arrest a father, but the facts were telling her she just might have to.

Aaron was about to leave when he saw how green around the gills Carol looked. "Carol?" He approached her. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."

"I think that flight lunch is catching up to me." She gagged.

"Mr. Carson's here." Tara stopped at the sight of her roommate and closed her eyes to slits, remaining silent.

"Carol's not feeling well." Aaron looked up as Tara cleared her expression. "I'll take him with you. I doubt barfing on him will get us answers."

"You sure?" Carol covered her mouth with her hand and swallowed loudly.

"Yeah, I'm sure." He rubbed her back and moved towards the interview room, seeing Mr. Carson, and he cringed mentally.

"Through here." Tara gestured to the door, Carson slipped though, and Tara turned to Carol. "Lair, lair, pants on fire."

"I need to talk to her." She swiped the address from Aaron's desk. "He'll understand and forgive me once I make it up to him, but right now...my gut is telling me to talk to her."

"Fine, but he's gonna make you owe him big time."

"It'll be worth it, I think." She scurried out of the bullpen, taking the stairs instead of the elevator.

Tara closed the door behind her, finding Lance and Aaron already bubbling with tension and disapproval. She could only imagine what happened while she briefly spoke to Carol, though given his seething disdain for people who were "different", it wasn't too hard to figure out what had happened.

"Mr. Carson." Tara set the file down in front of Aaron and stood beside the table to look down on the man. "What brings you all the way up here?"

"A guilty soul, perhaps?" Aaron jabbed.

"No." He cleared his throat and lifted his chin. "I came to correct the record. I have some things to say I don't want getting back to my wife."

"Oh? And what information do you have for us?" Tara folded her arms. "You've already within held coming to Philly, abusing your son—"

"I don't have a son!" he spewed. "I had a sweet little girl, and...she died four years ago when that...thing was created."

"Why did you follow him up to Philly?" Aaron tried to keep the growl out of his words, but he was really starting to hate this man.

"I didn't follow him up," Lance corrected. "I came here for Sonni. She was a good girl. A smart girl. She got caught up in the shit my daughter was doing, and I wanted to save her from herself."

"Why do you care what happened to Sonni?" Tara inquired.

"I told you. She was a good kid, her father and I played golf together, and I wouldn't let her ruin her life. The devil already sank his claws into my daughter. I wouldn't let the same happen to Sonni." His lips formed a grime line. "But...then I found them together...and I knew it was too late."

"What happened?"

"They were in bed together, what used to be my daughter tried to explain, but I didn't let it. I pulled Sonni out of that dingy little excuse of an apartment, and I made sure it knew to leave her alone." He didn't show any remorse. "Sonni ran away from the hotel were staying in, and I couldn't call the cops. She was a child, but legally she was eighteen, an adult, and there was nothing I could do. I called her phone and told her to meet me at the airport on Friday. I had some business to attend up here anyway, not involving that...thing. You can check it out, if you have to. I met her at the airport. She was in tears. She said she was coming back only to pack up her things. She moved here a couple months later, and that was the last time I saw her."

"She was upset?"

"Very. I don't know what...happened in that apartment before I got there, or what she did after she left, but it clearly broke her." His eyes hollowed with pain at the memory of that sobbing young girl. "Her father hasn't spoken to me since that day, and my own wife stopped loved me the day I got back."

Tara and Aaron remembered what Glenn and Rosita had told them about Sonni's interview, and Tara was glad Carol had gone after Sonni. It would seem their prime suspect was just a prime jackass, nothing else.

– – –

"Come here, baby." Sonni picked up her two year old daughter and kissed her nose. "Oh, my big girl."

"She certainly is." Carol stepped off the elevator. "Oh, she's just beautiful."

Sonni smiled, though it reflex and held no emotion. "What are you doing here, detective?"

"You know why I'm here."

She adjusted the dark-haired girl in her arms. "Please, don't..."

"You loved him." Carol studied the woman. "You were in love with him for a long time, weren't you?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. "I still am." She gently rocked her daughter. "You can't begin to know how much."

"No, I don't think I could."

"I didn't hurt him." She stepped toward the detective. "I would never hurt him. He was my entire world as kids, and then...he..."

Carol neared the young mother and child. "Please, Sonni, tell me. For Ezra's sake, tell me what happened."

Tears flooded her grey eyes, and she hugged her daughter closer. "Mr. Carson berated Ezra for finding us in bed together. He called him everything in the book, said he was never his child, he would never accept him, and he cursed him. He beat him, and he dragged me out of the room. Rodney was no help. He tried, but Mr. Carson is a big guy, and we were all scared."

"Go on."

"I tried to get back to him as soon as I could, but Mr. Carson watched me like a hawk." Tears streamed down her cheek. "I was too late to do anything. I abandoned him when he needed someone most. He was left all alone with all of those awful things his father said, and he... he couldn't take it. He couldn't live...with all of that in his head, and I wasn't there to chase it away..."

Carol knew well what happened next. "I see."

"He was my first, the only one that ever mattered to me, and I tried to get back the same day, but I couldn't. It was just Ezra and his father's words in his head for hours and hours in the dark, and he didn't know how much I loved him. He didn't know. I tried to tell him. God, I tried so hard, but Mr. Carson couldn't let me speak." She tried to hush her daughter who was playing off her mother's emotions and wailing. "He took his own life with a gun he'd gotten to protect himself. I found him...the next day, and...I buried him. I should have called the cops, but I was scared someone else would just take him from me. I was a kid, and I was so stupid."

Carol's eyes moved to the child. "Was she part of how stupid you were?"

"I was so heartbroken, and I had a fake ID. I got so drunk... I woke up in someone else's bed, and I still hate myself for letting that happen, but I have my daughter. I don't hate that I have her." She kissed her daughter's forehead. "As far as she's concerned, Ezra was her father. He's the only man worthy to be her father."

"She's beautiful."

"She's my angel." She smiled through her tears. "I'll never have what I had with Ezra again, but I have her, and she keeps me strong and keep me sane."

"Good." She asked Sonni then where Ezra was buried, and Sonni told her where and what flowers were resting over his grave. She started to leave when Sonni called to her. "Yes?"

"It only happens once. You only get one chance." She moistened her dry, trembling lips. "When it happens to you, don't walk away from it. Protect it, fight for it, and don't ever willingly walk away.

She smiled thinly and nodded. "I won't." She continued walking, turning back as Sonni rocked her baby girl in her arms. "What's her name?"

Sonni smiled. "Chance." She moved dark hairs back from her baby's face. "She's my Chance."

Carol smiled at the sight of them, and in her mind she imagined that Ezra was on the other side of Sonni, smiling down on them as she carefully soothed her baby's tears, making silly faces to try and cheer up the weeping infant, and her heart ached for the child who had lost it all in the darkness of his thoughts.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she wiped the tears from her eyes, slipping out of the building and answering it. "Peletier."

" _Carol!_ " It was Tara.

"What? What is it?"

" _The fucking sink exploded!_ "


	13. Loyalty

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"Are you kidding me?" Carol glowered at her roommate. "I thought it actually blew up! It's just leaking!"

"Yeah, into the bathroom and the apartment!" Tara gestured to it. "And it was gushing before you got home, I swear. It was really bad."

"Uh-huh." Carol removed her coat. "I'll call Merle."

"Already did it. I had to wait on hold for twenty minutes, but he's coming." She waddled through the water on the floor. "I knew having rain boots in here wasn't a bad idea."

Carol smirked and leaned in the doorway. "You're adorable."

"I try." She laughed and splashed her feet on the water. "Cleaning this up is going to be a bitch."

"I'll go get the towels from the closet."

"I have to go." Tara left her boots in the bathroom and hopped to avoid the water on her socks.

"Where are you off to?" Carol handed her an armful of towels. "Got a hot date?"

"No, just some paperwork I need to catch up on." She set the towels on the couch. "And Rosita and I are gonna grab some food once we're done. I'll be home late, but don't worry, I'm a phone call away."

"Oh." She tossed the towels she held with the others. "I'm not invited?"

"You gotta deal with Merle this time, and you solved our case, so deal with it." She smirked and slipped her Converse on. "I'll see you tonight. Don't hook up with Merle!"

"I'm good on sleeping with random guys for the rest of the year."

"Good." She shrugged into her coat. "Bye."

"Bye." She closed the door after her and ran her eyes over the mess in their bathroom. She heaved a sigh and was grateful that she'd cleaned up in there. Otherwise there would be a sea of floating hair ties and soaked shirts. She didn't care what Merle thought of their apartment, but she was glad to not have to buy new hair ties. She found three pack's worth in there. It'd be a shame if they were all ruined by the water.

She headed to her bedroom and tied her hair back with one of the aforementioned hair ties, removing her watch and shoes. She kicked them against the wall and pulled out an outfit that wasn't screaming _I'm a cop_. She should actually keep it on. It wasn't all that flattering, and it might repel the man even more. He did already think she was gay, so did it really matter what she wore?

She shrugged and heard a knock on the door. She hurried to answer it, not wanting to the floor to leak into the apartment below. It was empty right now, but knowing their asshole super he'd probably make them pay for any repairs when the sink "exploding" was his fault to begin with. He was terrible with maintenance, and so were all the people he brought in claiming they professional were plumbers and such. Carol suspected they were just buds, and he was too cheap to pay anyone else. She didn't know where he put his money, but it wasn't in keeping this complex standing, that was for sure.

She opened the door and found their jerk of a super on the other side. She decided to make this a short conversation.

– – –

Tara strolled into bullpen, Rosita was at her desk, and it looked like Boss had gone home already. She smiled at that and crept over to Rosita, placing her hands on either side of her desk and leaning around to kiss her temple.

"You're late." Rosita smirked at her when she moved out from behind her.

"My sink blew up when I was washing my face." She shrugged. "I can't help that."

"Uh-huh." She crossed her legs. "How's your apartment?"

"Still standing for now. We might merge with the floor below, because that complex was built on a cheap man's budget, but it's okay right now. Carol will call if we become 24-12."

"You can toss a ladder from the hole and pretend it's a staircase."

"True." She sat at her desk. "So, what paperwork do we have?"

"Not much, but enough that we might be late for my plans." She scrawled in her signature.

"What plans?"

"It's been a stressful case for all of us, and while it's not the weekend, we deserve to celebrate like it is. Besides I know this great club I know you'll love, and nobody we know goes there, so we don't have to keep our guard up."

"Great, shadow dates." She clicked the end of her pen and dug into her own pile of work, sighing as she ran her eyes over it.

"What's wrong? You don't want to go?"

"No." That gnawing feeling was returning, and she couldn't make it go away. "I mean, yes, I do want to go. It's just... Never mind."

Rosita looked up from her work and frowned, studying the woman across from her. "Tara, if there's something want to say, say it."

"There's nothing." And she meant it. There was nothing to say. There was nothing to look forward to. There was nothing to whatever the hell was happening between them. There wasn't a future or a reason or a cause. It simply was, and that was confounding. She had no words to explain what they were, and those that could fit...simply didn't. They weren't friends with benefits. It didn't feel like right title to slap over what they were, but nothing really felt right to label their relationship with.

They weren't girlfriends. They didn't go to movies or curl up in bed on the weekends. They didn't fight and consult their friends on how to make up. They didn't hold hands and walk down the street. They hadn't even gone a proper date. They had made plans, but they never went through with them. They weren't girlfriend, because that implied a future. That implied a huge range of possibilities that weren't on the table, and knowing that stung. It stung because Tara wasn't the type of person to do casual, not with someone she loved. Though she'd never done something like this before with someone she loved, but wasn't in love with.

She wanted to go back in time to the exact moment she suggested this was a good idea and slap herself. She should have known this wasn't going to go well. She wasn't this person. She never was. She cared too much about people, and she didn't like where this non-relationship was heading, because it wasn't heading anywhere. She didn't mind standing still, but not when she was with someone. But that was the thing, wasn't it? She wasn't _with_ anyone. She was just sleeping with her friend. Her very good friend, one of her best, and that wasn't okay. It never was, but Tara didn't want to lose her so she painted it up as though it was when, in fact, it was the worst idea she'd ever had sober.

She groaned soundlessly and hit her head on her desk. She needed to talk to someone about this. She couldn't turn to any of her friends, especially not Carol without getting the look, and she didn't have anyone else. She didn't know anyone who could give her advice while knowing both her and Rosita well enough for it to mean anything. The only people who could weren't an option. If they were, she'd turn to Glenn in a flat second. He and Maggie started off in this same situation, only they were strangers. That was probably the best one-night stand for both of them. Tara hadn't been so lucky. Hell, none of them had, and Aaron was, but in a different way and luck.

Tara lifted her head to scribble her signature on the bottom page when it dawned on her that there was someone she could talk to. She smiled widely to herself and headed to the break room to make a phone call. She was the only person in the entire world who could help her and who was qualified to help her. She was brilliant and kind and would smack Tara with a healthy dose of truth without ruining any friendships and without the risk of not knowing Rosita and Tara personally. She dated Denise for about two years, so she knew them all pretty well, and she could help. It'd be awkward, but she was Tara's last hope to get a handle on what the hell was happening within her. She'd even pay her at this point.

Tara got her answering machine when she called the first time, but the second time Denise actually picked up. "Hey, it's me."

"Tara." Denise nearly dropped the dish she was drying. "Huh, hi."

"Hey again." She laughed nervously. "Um, I'm sorry for calling out of the blue like this."

"No, it's fine. There really is no other way for you to call me after all this time."

"I'm sorry I didn't keep in touch."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I know." She sighed. "I need to talk to you. That's why I called. I know you have no reason to want to talk to me, and you don't owe me anything, but I really need to talk to you right now."

" _Right now_ right now?"

"Oh, no, no. I have paperwork. Why don't we meet later? Uh, tomorrow afternoon. We can meet at that little bistro we used to go to all the time, and we can take a walk. You can help me through my problem, I hope, and I'll buy you coffee after."

"So, just a friendly lunch-walk-coffee with my ex?"

"Yep."

She chuckled. "All right. I don't have any plans tomorrow afternoon, but I do at six, so I can fit you in."

"Thank you so much. You don't know what this means to me."

"I am eager to find out though."

"Trust me, it's...really kind of a surprise."

"Well, I look forward to helping you. I'll meet you at noon."

"Okay." Tara smiled blissfully. "At noon."

"And don't thank me again, Chambler. I could always be charging you."

"Oh, please don't. My broke ass has to pay for the cheap ass pipes in our apartment to get fixed."

"It's about time. Your plumbing has always sucked."

"Yeah, I know." She sat down at the table. "The sink exploded on us today. Well, on me. Carol was working."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah, but my pajamas weren't looking forward to the unexpected wash."

She laughed. "I'll bet."

"You have to hear the whole story." Tara began to tell the story of what happened, embellishing here and there to make Denise laugh, and she remembered how much fun it was to talk to Denise. She didn't realize how much she missed it. She should have called a lot sooner, although that might have resulted in them dating again. Denise still held a special place in Tara's heart, and she likely always would.

Rosita looked up and saw Tara had yet to return from the break room. She lowered her pen and stood up, stretching her limbs as she ambled toward the break room. She found Tara leaning against the counter and laughing. She was on the phone, and the sight of her happy and laughing brought a smile to Rosita's face.

She reached out to open the door, seeing it was slightly ajar, and she heard some of the conversation.

"No, it wasn't like that." She was giggling. "Denise, stop, I told you it wasn't like that." A pause. "I thought I was the sarcastic one in our relationship." Another pause. "Or maybe I rubbed off on you. I have a habit of doing that, and you did teach me how to stop a gunshot wound from bleeding. Useful in my line of work. It helped me out quite a bit, and I'm grateful." She scoffed lightly. "We both taught the other a useful skill. We did. Sarcasm is useful. Perhaps not as useful as what you taught me, but still."

Rosita tensed at the mention of Denise then stepped back from the door at the fervent affectionate in Tara's tone. She raised her gaze at the tenderness in Tara's eyes, and she studied her for a moment before turning and heading back to her desk.

"I have to go. I have a mountain of paperwork." Tara pushed off the counter. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Till tomorrow."

"Bye." She hung up and slipped her phone into her pocket, grinning ear to ear, and she tried to lose it before leaving the break room. It was a little weird and a lot of creepy considering only death coffee and old food were in the break room. So she waited a couple minutes before leaving, finding Rosita gathering her things. "You're already done? How long was I in there?"

"Not very. My aunt just called, and I have to watch my baby cousin. She's not feeling too great, and bringing a five-year-old to the hospital while ill isn't appealing to anybody, so I have to babysit." She shouldered her purse. "Which means our plans are cancelled."

"I could come over after I finish up. I'm good with kids."

"It's okay. My cousin's kind of...picky on babysitters, and I don't want him to turn into a tyrant, but thanks for the offer." She smiled goodbye and sauntered out of the bullpen. She lost the smile in the elevator and slumped against the wall when the doors closed, and she heaved a sigh, closing her eyes. She sank her teeth into her bottom lip and pushed off the wall when the bar dug into her spine. She opened her eyes and huffed, trying to forgot what she'd just overheard. She had a five-year-old to babysit, and the last thing she needed was him picking up on her mood. Whatever the hell this mood and these feelings were.

– – –

Carol plucked soggy socks out of the bathroom and dumped them into the hamper with a wet _splat!_ She released a groan and hoped Merle could fix this. She didn't want to imagine the damage this was going to cause. She would have to tempt Tara to move. The rent was a steal, but with shit like this happening was it really worth it?

She heard a knock on the door again and stood up, wiping her hands on her shorts, though they were mostly dry, and she moved a loose curl out of her face. She opened the door and stared at the person on the other side, a trail of unwanted and slightly misguided goosebumps rose up on her arms. It wasn't wildly romantic—or romantic at all—for a man she barely knew to show up at her doorstep, so what the hell goosebumps?

"Daryl." She stepped back, reaching for the drawer where her gun was held out of habit. The habit kicked in when her adrenaline set in, and the sight of seeing a man she hardly knew and only met once in a coffee shop days ago showing up randomly at her front door kicked her adrenaline into full throttle. How the hell did he know where she lived? And how the hell did he find her? Alone? What the fuck? Her mind was reeling, and she put her guard up instantly. "What brings you here?"

He held a hand out to calm her down, seeing her police instincts shining in her guarded eyes. "I'm your plumber." He lifted up the tool kit he'd gotten out of Merle's van. "My brother's the plumbing service you called. He's backed up today, so I offered to lend a hand."

"Oh." She calmed her heart. "So...your brother...the troublemaker...is Merle?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I don't got a uniform, but I got his business card. You can give him a call. He'd vouch for me." Asshole better after all the time Daryl had thrown into his business the last couple of days.

"No, it's okay." She smiled kindly. "Thank you for coming so quickly."

"It was on my way." He shrugged. "You're my last stop for the night."

"Lucky me." She moved aside to show him in and to the bathroom. "It's...a mess."

"Yeah." He ran his eyes over the bathroom and the rubber duck that floated by, and he saw Carol blush at the sight of it. He tried not to chuckle, so he cleared his throat to cover the sound. "I'm glad I wasn't wearin' my good clothes."

She laughed softly, awkwardly. "Yeah."

He set the toolbox down and rolled up his sleeves. "I'm going in. If I need a tool, could you hand it to me? This box ain't exactly waterproof, and it rusts easy."

"Sure. I don't mind getting wet." She paused at that sentence and wanted to bang her head into a wall. "Just let me know what you need," she mumbled in a haste.

"Good." He stepped inside and sloshed over to the sink, bending down to inspect it. He remembered Merle talking about this place. He mentioned the shitty pipe work and how if he wanted he could charge the shit out of them for all the work he did—Daryl talked him out of it—and how it was owned by a couple. A lesbian couple. Daryl smacked him for emphasizing it, and they nearly got into a fight in his apartment, but Axel broke it up before it got that far. Merle apparently hit on one—or more likely both—of them, and Daryl told him time and again not to do that with clients. He never listened before, so why Daryl thought he'd listen now was beyond him.

He glanced over at the brunette standing in the doorway, careful to not be caught watching as she was both in a relationship and a cop, and he felt slightly disappointed. It couldn't be helped who she was attracted to, and that was fine, but damn. She was stunning, with beautiful sapphire eyes and long brown curls down her slender shoulders and rosy lips that caught his eye more than once. His eyes moved lower to her outfit, and he chewed on his bottom lip. She had on a t-shirt and shorts that were slightly damp from the water, but it was those long legs that kept his attention as she leaned in the doorway. He averted his eyes when she turned to look at him, chiding himself for gaping at her like he had.

"How's it look?" She stepped over the wall of towels and waddled over to him, bending over to observe at what he was looking at. "Can you fix it tonight? Or at least stop the leak?"

He nodded. "Mmm-hmm."

She smiled and lowered herself down. "That's good. I have to shower for work tomorrow, will that be possible?"

"I dunno about that, but I'll try. It really just depends."

She nodded this time. "Let me know if I can help you with anything."

"I will." He glanced at her and caught her eyes, earning a sweet smile from her. "What?"

"Nothing." She straightened up. "I'll...uh, be in the living room. Just holler if you need me."

"Okay."

She exited the bathroom, removing the rain boots, and she grabbed her phone, calling the only person in the entire world she knew could help her right now. In a way this was kind of her second chance, and she hadn't done anything like this in three years, so she really needed help. He was the only person she could turn to, and if he didn't pick up, she was going to call his husband.

– – –

"Don't let him on the furniture," Aaron scolded both Eric and Buttons, sighing when he knew this lesson wasn't going to stick. Eric just grinned innocently beside the black puppy, and Button rolled onto his back for a belly rub. Aaron had a feeling a lot of lessons would end like this.

"What harm is it going to do?" Eric pleaded for the puppy.

"Give it a couple months when he's bigger and leaves scratch marks all over everything," he griped.

"He's so dramatic, isn't he?" Eric baby-talked to the puppy. "Yes, he is."

Aaron shook his head and heard his phone ringing. "You're a bad influence. This is why people won't let us babysit their kids. You can't be strict to save your life."

"A little ice cream before dinner never hurt anyone!"

"Yeah, but it pisses off Mommy when her kids complain about how mean she is when "Uncle Eric let them have ice cream"." He collected his phone as Eric rolled his eyes dramatically. "Hello?"

"Hey."

"Carol." He turned to face his husband. "What are you doing and why are you whispering?"

"I'm in my bedroom, and the plumber's here."

"Is he hitting on you? I can come over and pretend we're together. He might think you're a cheater, but it has to be better than being harassed."

"No, no. It's not Merle. It's his brother, Daryl." She lingered on the name. "As in the guy I met in at Starbucks."

"Oh." Aaron smiled. "Well, how funny is that."

"What?" Eric looked up from scratching Button's belly.

"Carol's plumber is the same guy from the coffee shop, the one she was interested in."

"Really?" He gently moved from the couch and over to where Aaron stood, listening to the conversation by stand against Aaron, and Aaron put it on speaker.

"Hey, Eric." Carol peeked out her bedroom door to ensure he was still in the bathroom.

"Hey."

Aaron adjusted the phone. "Why are you calling me if he's at your apartment?"

"Because the last time I went out with someone was when I was twenty-five! I haven't dated in years, and I certainly haven't asked anyone out. I need help. God, my palms are sweating."

"How cute is he?" Eric teased.

"Very."

"All right, calm down." Aaron leaned against the table. "It'll be all right, just...tell me how you want to go about asking him out. It's not that hard. What do you want to do? Get coffee? You already know he likes it."

"That's true." Eric crossed his arms. "But you might want to go for something else. Like...see if he wants to meet for tea. I know a really great tea shop. They're scones are to die for."

"It's a first date," Aaron replied. "They're not a fifty-eight year old couple."

"We went there last week."

"Well, we're old."

He glared.

"Old as a couple," he added then returned to speaking to Carol. "Are you still hiding?"

"Yes."

"All right, we'll work on that later. What are you wearing? Your work clothes?"

"No, one of Tara's t-shirts and shorts."

"Dear God, tell us you shaved."

"Of course."

"Well, you're the one who's been single for three months now. We're just checking." Eric shifted his weight. "So, has he checked you out at all? You do have nice legs."

"I think so, but honestly it could be my imagination."

"Well, go talk to him." Aaron told her. "We need to know what we're dealing with, so leave your phone in your room, and just chat him up, see if his eyes wander. We'll wait on the line till you get back."

"What do I say?"

"I'm desperately attracted to someone other than my asshole ex for the first time in three months and would like to have dinner," Eric jokingly suggested.

"Ask him if he wants something to drink." Aaron smirked at his husband.

"All right. That's easy enough." She set the phone down and slipped out of her room.

"God, she's hopeless." Eric winced at how awkward Carol must be right now. "Poor girl."

"She's just rusty."

"No, the Tin Man was rusty. Carol's in a whole another league." He waltzed over to the couch and scooped up their puppy. "Isn't that right, Buttons? Aunt Carol needs a hell of a lot more than some oil."

"That's why she called us." He joined him and sat on the sofa. "Shane was the one to ask her out, if you recall, so it's been over three years and three months since she's been in the position to ask anyone out. She'll be fine once she finds her footing."

"Let's hope."

––

"Hey." Carol hovered in the doorway, hands behind her back. "Um, could I water you?"

He stopped in his work and blinked, not sure if he blacked out pieces of that question or if she was crazy and thought he was a plant. "Excuse me?"

"Water!" She felt her face burning. "Or lemonade? Are you thirsty? We have...lemonade."

He shrugged a shoulder and peeked at her, though he could tell she wished he hadn't. She was adorable, all pink in the face and shy. "Maybe in a bit."

"Okay." She slithered back to her bedroom and collapsed onto her bed, collecting her phone. "Can you just shoot me through the phone?"

"What happened?" That was Eric.

"I asked if I could water him. Not "Are you thirsty", not "Could I interest you in a drink", not "Want some juice", but could I water you. God, I should be shot for that."

"Honey, I should be shot for listening to that."

"Please, don't joke with me right now. I can't take it." She crossed her legs. "I really don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do. I haven't...been this way around a man since Shane, and he made the first move. All I had to do was speak my name and tell him what drink I wanted."

"That won't work now," Aaron reminded her. "You need to calm down. He's just one man. He might not be the next long relationship in your life. He might not be the one. You need to stop thinking like he might be and just ask the man out. I know it's going to be nerve-wrecking, but you like him—a lot, evidently—and he'd have to be blind and crazy or gay to not like you. So just suck up the nerves and the awkwardness and just ask him."

She inhaled deeply and smiled. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"I'll call you later to tell you I either fucked it up royally, or I have a date on Saturday."

"I look forward to helping you plan your outfit."

"I love you guys."

"We know." Eric smiled. "We love you too. Now go."

"Bye." She hung up and left her phone on her bed as she sucked in a deep breath and strolled out into the hall. She gripped the frame of the door and saw he was hard at work. "Do you need a hand?"

"Actually...yeah." He couldn't move any further from this position anyway, so either she helped him or...he would owe them money at the end of the night.

She stepped into the bathroom and over to him, dropping to her knees in the water. "Just tell me how I can help."

They worked together for the next hour to temporarily fix the issue. It was a rough ride as the pipe had separated from its partner at one point and squirted Carol directly in the face. Daryl had moved instantly to shield her from it, but she insisted she was fine and held it together so he could tighten it. She did find a ring she'd lost in there about four months ago, and she now had to apologize to Tara for not losing it. That was something she wasn't looking forward to, but she'd have to take her medicine. She had been a mega bitch about it, even taking it out on Shane, who definitely hadn't taken it. At least she didn't have to apologize to him. That was an upside.

Carol offered Daryl a towel once the job was done as it was getting colder, and she didn't want him to catch his death out there. She suggested some coffee before he left, he agreed while he dried his pants as best he could, and Carol changed into jeans and a tank top, swiping Tara's plaid overshirt. It was warm, and Carol was cold, and Tara stole from her closet all the time. Sharing was caring, right?

"Here you go." Carol handed over a mug of hot coffee to him.

"Thanks."

"You can have a seat." She sat on the love-seat by the window, and he sat on the couch behind him. "So, do you help your brother out a lot?"

"Just a few times when he's busy like this." He drank the steaming liquid.

"That's sweet of you."

Not really. Merle usually bugged the shit out of him until he agreed to lend him a hand. "I guess."

"Do you know when you'll be back to finish the job?"

"I'd like to come back tomorrow, if you'll be home. Near noon, if possible."

"I might not be, but I'll try to come back and meet you."

He nodded and had another drink, seeing the time on his watch, and he stood up. "Shit, it's late." He set the cup down. "I gotta go."

"I'll walk you out."

"You don't gotta."

"I like to." She stood up and locked her gaze with his. "I'd also like to have dinner with you."

He stared at her.

"Maybe this Saturday? I can't guarantee I'll be available, because who knows when I'll get a new case, but I'd really like to have dinner with you."

"Why?"

She laughed. "Why? Because I like you."

"You like me?" His brows knitted together, and he was frowning. He didn't know if she was bi or what, but he wasn't going to become involved with someone who lived with their girlfriend. He wasn't that type of guy, and he didn't approve of cheating. He also wasn't big on relationships in general. He didn't do well with them, as he wasn't big on sharing most of his life with people who didn't really care about him. He learned that lesson a long time ago, and it stuck with him. He wasn't sure that he could trust most people, and he typically didn't let them get close enough to find out if he could. He definitely wasn't going to let her get any closer while she was involved with someone else. Unless she didn't mean it as a date. Maybe she just wanted to be friends.

Though he knew enough about women to know that wasn't what she was looking for. He'd seen the women Merle hung around, and while she wasn't anything like them, she had the same look and body language as those women. She was beautiful, passionate, and he knew if she wasn't already entangled, he might be able to really care for her, but she was, and he wasn't going there.

"I don't think so." He stepped back.

"Oh." She lowered her eyes, dropping her arms dejectedly to her sides. "You don't date your customers?"

"Nah, I don't date women who are seein' somebody."

She frowned now and raised her head. "But I'm not seeing anybody."

"Yeah, you are. I know about you and your girlfriend." He knew he sounded pissed, but for her to stand there and try and lie to him was an insult to him and to her girlfriend. He wouldn't let it stand. "Y'all live together, and you're tryin' make a move on me? No."

She gaped at him then snapped her mouth shut and winced. The lie! Tara had lied to Merle, saying they were together, and Merle must have told him about it! Son of a bitch. He thought she was involved with Tara! That was why he didn't seem interested. To his knowledge, she was in a serious relationship with someone else, and she'd just asked him out after flirting with him for a good hour and a half!

Her heart fluttered at that. Aww, he was such a sweetheart. He wouldn't let her cheat on Tara. He didn't know them or have any reason to care, but he didn't want to participate in destroying their relationship. He took fidelity seriously, and that was hard to find these days. He was a genuine gentlemen, wasn't he? She felt confident in her decision to ask him out once more after straightening up this misunderstanding.

But wait. She would have to tell him she and Tara lied to keep his sleazy brother at bay. If he and his brother were close, this might insult him. He might even get pissed enough to not come back, and they really needed to fix their bathroom. She knew that was the priority, but this was the first time in three damn months that she felt something other than sorrow and heartbreak and hungover. She didn't want to let this moment pass by and not risk making an ass of herself so he knew he had options. She wasn't going to have what she and Shane had again, and she didn't know for sure, but it could be better with Daryl. So asshole or not, she had to try. He already thought the worst of her, so how bad could revealing the truth be?

"I'm not dating anyone," Carol acknowledged. "Tara is just my roommate. I'm straight, and she's gay. Now, this might sound horrible, but...when we want to escape bad dates or...try to get men off our backs, we use the other and claim they're our girlfriend. It's terrible, but it sometimes works. We get a lot of creepy offers, but one flash of our badges and they pretty much take off. Unless they want to get kinky then we have to beat them off with a stick. There's a surprisingly large number of guys who—"

"Let me stop you right there," he softly interjected.

"Sorry." She shrank back. "I'm sure your brother's a nice...guy, but—"

"Stop," he repeated, and she averted her eyes. "He's really not."

She blinked and her head snapped up. "What?"

"I love my brother, don't get me wrong, but he's an asshole. A simple-minded asshole." He rubbed the back of his neck. "And I don't blame you or her for tryin' to avoid his come ons. He can be pretty relentless. I'm trying to get him to stop."

"You don't?"

He shook his head. "But all you had to do was say you were a cop. He hates cops."

"I remember." She smiled fondly at him when he seemed to remember how they originally met. "So," she laced her fingers together and stepped towards him, "does this mean you'll consider having dinner with me?"

"That depends."

"On?"

"If you like hot wings."

"What?" She laughed.

"Saturday's kind of a routine wing night for me, and I'm kinda lookin' forward to it."

"Should I reschedule then? I do enjoy hot wings, but I don't want to get in the way."

He smiled to the left of his mouth. "You won't."

She grinned. "Then okay."

"I'll be back tomorrow, and we can...go over the details then."

She nodded and walked him to the door, he stopped just outside the apartment and handed her his business card, and she turned it over, finding his cell phone number on the back. "You give all the ladies your number?"

"No. I was gonna give this to you regardless, so you could get in touch if your plumbing went to shit again." She laughed. "But now you can use it to call me. You know, in case you can't make it on Saturday, and we have to reschedule."

She closed her fingers around it. "I'll try not to."

He nodded. "Take it easy with the water for now." He stuffed his hands in his jacket pocket. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Good night."

"Night." She watched him leave then closed the door and slumped against it, her grin returning in full force at the handwritten ink numbers on the back of the card.

* * *

 _A/N: Sorry for the delay, I have been both sick and busy. A few tragedies have occured as well. It's been stressful, and I've been unable to write, but thank you for your concern and patience._


	14. Suspicious Minds

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

 _A/N: I'm sorry for the delay, and don't worry, I'm not giving up on this story._

* * *

– – –

Carol called Aaron and Eric to let them know she had a hot date on Saturday. They cheered for her, and she suspected they were wondering how on earth a man like that could fall for the stupid shit she'd asked him. She didn't care though. She had a date. A real, actual date with a decent guy. A decent, fairly—extremely—completely—attractive man. She was excited and nervous and damn near close to squealing—and she didn't really do that kind of thing.

She sat on the sofa, drying her feet after mopping up the water from the bathroom, and she thought over what to wear on their date. She didn't have many date outfits, mostly work clothes. She had a few dresses, but they were for formal events. For pity's sake she had to dip into Rosita's wardrobe to go clubbing. She said she had some dresses, but not really. She'd outgrown them in the last couple of months, if she was being honest. She'd let herself go after Shane broke up with her, her eating habits were horrendous—if she ate at all—and she'd been able to find a balance again, which was good. Sadly her clothes didn't agree with her.

She would have to find something in her closet that would do, and if not, she could ask Rosita to take her shopping. Rosita wasn't the biggest shopping fan in the world, but she was the only one of them with any real taste. Carol's fashion taste never formed, as her father didn't let her buy nice things, and she mostly wore blouses and blazers to work. Tara dressed like a tomboy, and that worked for her, but not for Carol. She and Tara had two different complexions, and a lot of Tara's clothes made Carol look ridiculous. She didn't want to look ridiculous on the first _first_ date she'd had in three years.

She stood up when Tara entered, sighing loudly and dragging herself over to the couch to plop down. "You okay?" She studied her roommate.

"So much fucking paperwork." She dropped her head against the back of the couch and held up her hand. "I think it's stuck in this position. I can still brush my teeth, so at least there's an upside."

Carol chuckled. "It'll be fine."

"You think I'm holding it like this on purpose, but I'm not." She lowered her claw hand and met Carol's eyes. "Did Merle come? Can I shower?"

"No and no."

"What? He didn't? Seriously?"

"He didn't come, but his brother did." Carol smiled instantly at the mention of Daryl, and Tara immediately narrowed her eyes at Carol's behavior. "He'll be by tomorrow to finish the job, so you can't shower."

"What happened with his brother and you? I told you not to sleep with him."

"I haven't!" Yet. "It's just... He was the guy I met at the coffee shop." She sat on the edge of the table in front of Tara. "We have a date on Saturday."

"That's awesome, Carol. I'm happy for you."

"I'm scared, to be honest, but I'm really excited. I need to call Rosita and set up plans to go shopping, because the section of clothes I wear outside of work...has been reduced to sleep wear." She moved a curl from her eye and heaved a sigh. "I'd invite you, but I need actual advise, and Rosita's the only one of the four of us that has a good eye."

"Four of us? There's only three girls in our department."

"Maggie." She dropped her hands to her lap. "I love her, and she's right under Rosita with fashion. But she'll want to know everything about Daryl and what's happening on our date, and I don't need the new Mom to be _my_ mom."

"Just be sure he wears a condom this time. I don't want half of our food money spent on Plan B, okay?"

"Ha ha." She smacked her arm and plopped down beside her on the couch. "I want to wait before we have sex..."

"Why?"

She met her eyes as if to say _you of all people should know why_ , and she blushed. "I...just want to wait a bit. We will eventually have sex, but I want to get to know him as a person. I don't think that's too much to ask, do you?"

"No, you should get to know him." She looped her arm through her roommate's. "I respect your decision, and I'm happy for you. You deserve this."

She set her hand over Tara's and snuggled against her. "I wish you had a date."

"Yeah, me too, but I'm way too awesome for any one person to handle."

"That is true."

"Do I detect sarcasm, Peletier?"

"Oh, always."

– – –

Carol walked into the bullpen to find Aaron, Eric, Glenn and Tyreese hovering around her desk, and she adjusted the mail in her hand, cocking her head to the side. She knew there wasn't anything on her desk. It wasn't like Tara's minefield of crap, so unless a file was placed there for them to go over, she didn't know why they were there. At her desk. They weren't even talking, and Eric wasn't a cop, so what the hell were they doing?

The last time they were gathered around her desk, Shane had just asked her out on a date, and they were playing the part of her father. All of four of them. She realized then two of them knew she had a date, and it was completely feasible that the other two were informed of said date and were here to play the father role once more. Ty did it effortlessly, as he was practically all their fathers, and Eric was surprisingly good at scolding information out of them—which made him more of the mother than father, but she wouldn't bother pointing that out. As for Glenn and Aaron, they were just adorable trying. It would be especially adorable as Glenn was now a father, and Carol was already amused.

"Is there something I can do for you?" Carol walked around her desk to face them. "Or are you admiring my pen collection?"

"I was just dropping off Aaron's dinner," Eric replied. "You all have him eating such junk, and I'd like him to live past forty."

"Okay, that excuses one of you." She ran her eyes over her squadmates' faces and her boss's.

"I needed tape." Glenn picked the dispenser up off her desk. "The tip of the picture frame I have of Mag and Lauren is broken, so until I get a new one...I just wanted to cover it. Aaron steals my tape." He dashed back to his desk to work on the frame.

"Okay." She set her belongings down on her desk and faced Aaron. "And you?"

"It's your first date in three years," he stated. "And I just want to meet the guy, get a feel of who he is. I came to ask if you could have him come here to pick you up."

"He's not picking me up."

"He's not?" Eric frowned. "Seriously?"

"No. I told him I'd meet him at his place. It's easier that way, and I knew you'd try to do this, so I insisted on driving myself. Besides if I don't like how it's going, I can ditch in my own car and spend any money I would have used on a cab on booze." She sat down, lying her butt off. They hadn't talked about that just yet, but they didn't need to know that. "Now, I'm going to get to work, and I'd rather not have all of your shadows on my desk."

"Just...let us know if you need any help," Tyreese said in a low tone.

She smiled softly. "Guys, I'm a pretty good judge of character, and I can handle myself."

"Yeah, on the field," Aaron reminded her. "With your gun, but in a relationship? On dates? You're awful at this, Carol. No offense."

"Well, some taken." She shot up. "I don't need you to play the father or the older brother! I didn't have either growing up, and I sure as hell don't need it now!" She groaned and stormed off toward the bathroom.

"Well, good job." Rosita slow clapped from the entrance, strolling over to her desk. "I didn't think you could manage to kill her good mood, but you just proved me so wrong."

Tyreese sighed. "She hates when we're honest with her, but she needs to hear this. She's crap at relationships. Shane had to pry information out of her for the first year. If this guy doesn't push, he'll get nowhere, and she'll get hurt again."

"I can't see her go through a breakup again," Aaron added. "There's nothing any of us can do, just watch her be miserable, and it sucks. I want to know this guy's gonna take care of her, at least for a bit."

"I get that." Rosita removed her coat. "I do, and it's really sweet, but let Carol handle this. She's a grown woman, and she has to figure this out. Figure herself out. She's not the only one still...fumbling."

"That's true." Aaron leaned back and nudged his husband gently on the arm. "I'll walk you to the car."

Eric smiled and grasped his hand. "I'll see you all later. Have...well, don't get shot."

"Not today," the group responded.

Aaron and Eric departed, Carol returned from the bathroom, muttering to herself, and Rosita agreed to take her shopping to lighten the rain cloud the boys had hung over her. She smiled gratefully and set the date for tomorrow evening, and Rosita hoped she could cheer her up further then. She couldn't make herself happy right now, so why not try and make Carol happy? It might do her confused head and heart some good. She sorely hoped so.

"Where's Chambler?" Glenn returned the tape to Carol's desk and noticed her partner's chair was still empty. "She doesn't have the best attendance, but doesn't she come in after you?"

"She was actually gone when I woke up this morning." She smiled with a secret in her eyes, and Rosita and Glenn both saw.

"What do you know?" Glenn eyed her.

Carol shrugged a shoulder and logged into her computer. "It's not for me to say."

"Peletier, that's not fair." Glenn sank into Tara's seat and narrowed his eyes at her. "You have to tell us. We're family, and there are no secrets among family."

Both women scoffed, Glenn shrugged an "eh" at their scoffs, and Carol was debating on whether or not to tell them. Glenn was eager to know where the raven-haired detective had snuck off to, leaning over Tara's messy desk to try and compel Carol to spill all her secrets. Rosita was trying not to act interested, but her fingers lacked their normal speed on her computer, and Carol could see a hesitation in her eyes when she dared to look over to see if Glenn was getting anything out of her. They were both watering at the mouth, and she couldn't help but laugh.

Aaron halted at the scene before him and furrowed his brows. "Glenn, you do know you're not supposed to stare at people, right?"

"She knows where Chambler is, and she won't tell us." Glenn didn't look at his partner. "It's apparently juicy."

"I never said that," Carol corrected.

"You don't have to." Glenn gestured behind him at Aaron. "After years of working with that one, I'm able to tell how interesting secrets are."

"That one?" Aaron crossed his arms. "What am I, a toy?"

"Maybe just a tool," Rosita murmured, but loud enough for him to hear and glare her way.

"Okay, guys, cut it out." Carol shifted in her chair. "It's really not that interesting. Tara just has a date."

"That is interesting. When was the last time she went out on a date?" Aaron walked to Carol's desk. "Tell us who."

No one noticed how Rosita's lips parted to answer, how she bit back and dropped her head to try and causally seem bored with this topic, as she normally would have. She rubbed the back of her neck and bit her bottom lip as Carol fed Aaron and Glenn what little information she knew, and it was perfectly clear who Tara was going to see. Rosita now had a when and a where to go with the who she already knew. Her chest felt...tight, and it was bewildering. She and Tara weren't an item. They weren't romantically together. What they had was a mutual agreement. It wasn't love. It wasn't affectionate. It simply was what it was, and that was it. There was no adding to it. They never stated they were exclusive, so Tara wasn't in the wrong. It just felt like she was.

"Wait, Denise? She has a date with Denise?" Aaron was smiling, and Rosita knew what he was going to say next. "That's fantastic. I always liked Denise. They were really good together."

"Yeah, I haven't seen her happier with anyone else since." Glenn thought about it. "Or before, actually."

"Don't mention it. She didn't know I was within hearing range when she made those plans." Carol crossed her legs. "If she and Denise are back together, just let her tell us in her own time. Relationships are hard enough."

"My lips are sealed." Aaron sat at his desk. "I'm just glad she's dating again. She deserves someone like Denise. Someone who makes her happy, you know? Like this geek and Maggie."

"Hey!" Glenn complained.

"What? Aren't you and Maggie happy?"

"We are, but do you really think it's necessary to call me a geek?"

"Well, I could have gone with dork, nerd—"

"I have a few of my own for you," Glenn interrupted his partner.

Carol laughed as they continued to bicker like an old married couple, and she noticed then how quiet Rosita was being. Normally she'd try and play the middle child as Tara wasn't here to play the part, or she'd try and egg them on—it was one of the two—but today she sat silently at her desk. Her eyes were forcibly studying something on her computer screen, and there was a darkness in those onyx orbs. Carol didn't know what it was, but something they'd said or done had triggered this response in their teammate. She frowned, but instead of calling Rosita out for her muteness, Carol decided to calm the guys down and remind them that while it'd been quiet for a few days didn't mean they didn't have work to do.

Rosita visibly relaxed when the conversation ceased, and Carol weakly smiled at her small accomplishment. She would have to ask her what was wrong later, because right now they still had a mountain of work to do. It definitely wasn't the fun type of work either. This was late night at the office with take out food and grouchy coworkers work.

––

Around ten Tara sauntered into the bullpen, looking nicer than anyone had seen her since the girls went out to the club, with her hair brushed out and down, a light gloss on her lips, and she wore a suit. A full suit with a tie, which she loosened, but still. This wasn't an everyday Tara Chambler before them. It was a got-a-hot-date Tara Chambler, and hot damn was she aiming to blow this date out of the water.

"I swear if I never see paper work again, I'll die a happy woman." Tara dragged a hand through her hair and shook her head.

"I'll do your paperwork for an entire year if you tell me who you're going out with tonight."

The quip came from Rosita, everyone could hear the undertone of daggers in the playful sentence, and every single detective was taken aback by it. It came out light and joking, but that undertone sounded like she wanted to tear Tara's throat out. Unless Tara began to date inside Rosita's family, there was no reason for that tone. It was uncalled and flat out rude, but as they knew when Rosita dug her claws in, there was no getting them out. As sad as it was, it was best to let Tara pry them out herself, least they all be bleeding from various wounds.

Tara shrugged a shoulder. "It doesn't really matter."

"The hell it doesn't," Glenn jumped in before Rosita snapped her ink pen in half. "You're all decked out to the nines. You have a date, and it _does_ matter."

Tara glanced at him. "It's just...coffee, okay? It's not a date."

"Then what's with the clothes?" Carol cocked her head to the side. "You're not the type to dress up."

"I haven't done laundry in a week, so I'm out of clothes, and if I borrow any more of yours, you'll have none. I'm doing them tonight since I have _no plans_ ," she emphasized. "I'm a lazy person, and I paid for it. I actually had to do my hair, because you can't just wear this with a ponytail."

"That's true." Aaron grew less suspicious as he knew Tara was as lazy as a sloth. "So, no date?"

"No date. I'm just meeting Denise for coffee. It's not...a date. It's just...coffee." She waited for their reaction and at the lack of one sent a glare to her partner. "You told them? You overheard?"

"Just a little bit," Carol defended herself.

She sighed. "Don't make a big deal out of this, okay? All of you." She couldn't look at Rosita, because if she did, their secret would come spewing out. She didn't want that can of worms open for all the office, not today, and probably not for a long time, if it lasted that long. She wasn't sure of much, so she'd rather just wait...until she spoke to a professional about it. "It's just coffee. We're not even friends."

"My hopes are always low." Carol smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry. Next time...I'll cough or something."

"It's all right. It's just Denise." She collected her coffee mug and headed to the break room. Adding a packet of sugar, Tara added to the roommate who had surely followed her, "But next time it won't be, so please let me just have a little privacy."

"Okay." Carol nodded. "I don't care who you sleep with or screw around with, you know that. I just want you to be happy."

Tara returned her smile, only lacking the apology. "And who says I'm not?"

"Nobody, not even me. I just...am saying it to say it."

"I know." She smirked. "And thank you. The same goes for me."

"I know." She gently slugged her in the arm. "I'll buy you a drink tonight, and you can tell me all about your coffee with Denise."

"Actually, I have plans with her," Tara lied. "Dinner plans, but it's, like, super late 'cause she has a meeting."

"Oh."

"But I can meet you tomorrow for coffee." She tried to earn a smile from her partner. "I can help you prep for your date. I'm good at that."

"Putting condoms in my purse doesn't help anything." She crossed her arms. "And all you did was make Shane think we were going to have sex on the second date."

"But you did."

"I wasn't planning on it!"

"Don't put your weak will on me." She smirked. "Though now that you mention it, I have to ask. Is that why you want to wait with this one?"

"Yes. I'm waiting until at least the fifth date. I just...don't want it to be like my past relationships, and I need to know who I'm dating, who I'm trusting and who I might love one day. I know it won't hit me within five dates, but I hope to have a clue of what I feel."

She nodded. "I get it. It makes total sense."

"Rosita and I are going shopping tomorrow, but I'll get more of an idea of what I feel for him when I meet Daryl at noon in the apartment today."

"You're leaving?"

"Well, I'd like to shower at home again. Maybe cook."

"It's just that I'm meeting Denise for lunch, and I already cleared it with Boss."

"Oh." This was more disappointed than the first one, and she visibly sagged. "Okay then. Could you drop by to let Daryl fix up the bathroom? Uh, it shouldn't take too long."

"Yeah, yeah." Tara felt guilt settle in the pit of her stomach. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you guys were planning on meeting again before Saturday. I thought you had it all squared away."

"Not quite, but I can call. I have his number, and it's fine." She shrugged her shoulders and stepped back. "I have to get back to my work, but just let him know I'll call, okay?"

"Carol—"

"Don't feel guilty. It's really okay. I'll see him again on Saturday, and I have Rosita to help me out, so it's really fine." She smiled reassuringly and headed back to her desk, turning back midway to say, "Good luck with Denise and your dinner. Bring me back a dessert."

"You don't even know where we're going."

"So?"

She chuckled and followed her. "All right."

Tara left at noon, Rosita grew increasingly quiet and absorbed in her work, Carol stared at her cell phone as if willing a message to appear, and Aaron and Glenn were attuned to every emotion the women were letting off. Carol's made little sense, as did Rosita's so they were flooded with these emotions and had no reason to put behind them. It wasn't fun, not even two hours later when Tara had yet to return, and Aaron soon decided to go pick up some food for them.

"But Eric brought you lunch." Rosita lifted her eyes from her work for the first time since Tara came in.

"Well, Glenn and I will grab you guys lunch."

"Yeah, it's no big deal." Glenn shrugged into his jacket. "We'll be back soon."

"I'm not even hungry," Rosita pointed out.

"Yeah, me neither." Carol uncrossed her legs. "And I don't think I'm going to be anytime soon."

"Well, I'm starving." Glenn cleared his throat. "I'll get you some coffees then."

They watched the guys bolt out of the office, Rosita sighed and leaned back in her chair, and Carol picked up her phone to send Daryl a message. The air relaxed with the men gone, and they could somewhat breath through their respective issues.

Carol wanted to call and let him know she'd speak to him later, but she couldn't just call him in the middle of work, despite how dead it was. She would just have to wait until she was home. It wasn't like it'd be a long wait. She got off soon, as it was just a paperwork day, and she didn't have to worry about a murder or any victims. A short text would suffice, but she hadn't dated in so long, and she was worried he might think she'd changed her mind. It wasn't impossible for him to figure out they couldn't have all their detectives roaming the streets, even on a slow day, so only one out on personal stuff at a time, but her nerves weren't allowing that message to sink in. She hated anxiety. She wished she could be still, like Aaron or Glenn, but that wasn't possible.

Rosita inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, bringing a fisted hand to her forehead and knocking twice tenderly. She hated where her mind was going, how her senses were being overloaded by the idea that Tara was cheating on her, how her heart fluttered and missed beats. Her stomach was a tangle of knots, and she felt sick. She wouldn't be craving food for a good while, and she hated that she felt this way. She loathed it with every fiber of her being.

Tara and she weren't exclusive. They hadn't made rules so they could only see each other, only have sex with each other, and they weren't dating so rules like that didn't apply. Cheating technically didn't apply either, as there were no established boundaries. There was no verbal agreement that they would only do certain things together, and honestly Rosita had no right to feel this way, to act as she was acting. She wasn't a child whose favorite toy had been taken by a cousin. She wasn't a teenager whose supposed best friend had taken her crush, because she silent and hadn't made her feeling known. She was an adult, and Tara was just her friend. She had no claim on her, as Tara had no claim on Rosita, and she thought she was fine with it. She should be fine with Tara seeking out...someone else. It made their situation a lot less complicated. They could pretend it didn't happen. They could be friends again, and the lines wouldn't be blurred.

And yet part of her didn't want that. She'd been struggling—fighting—wrestling with that part to keep it down, to keep the reasons from spilling out, but there was little point. She knew what it was. She knew from the moment she remembered that first night with Tara. This feeling was the reason she became cold and was harsh to Tara for nearly a month. She hated this part of her, the part that she couldn't banish, though she desperately wanted to. She was human, and she knew this was part of it, but goddamn it. This emotion, this need, this attachment, was what ruined her and her heart with Abraham, and she couldn't go through that again. She couldn't endure that a second time, and it'd be worse, because Tara meant so much more to her than Abraham.

––

"Hey." Tara greeted Denise with a wide smile and embraced her out of habit, her body moving as if she'd only seen her couple hours ago instead of years.

"Hi." She smiled shyly and moved out of her hug. "You look...wow. Did you dress up for me?"

"To be honest, I need to wash my clothes, and causal me doesn't work with this outfit, so I dressed up some."

"I see. It was too good to be true."

"I can lie and say it's all for you."

"Yeah, let's not." She smiled warmly and moved hair from her face, and Tara's eyes zeroed in on the rock on her finger.

"Holy shit!" Tara grabbed her hand, pulling Denise right into her personal space, nearly knocking foreheads, but Tara didn't seem to notice—or care—as she stared at the engagement ring. "That's worth more than two years of my paychecks."

Denise blushed and tried to hide the ring, but Tara didn't let go. "It's not that impressive."

"No, it really is." She lifted her head, her nose almost brushing against Denise's, and she grinned. "Why didn't you tell me?" She hugged her again before Denise could reply. "I'm so happy for you."

Denise relaxed into her hug this time. "I didn't know how."

"Idiot." Tara gave her one last squeeze then released her. "You can tell me all about this lucky lady over lunch. You're turning blue out here."

They entered the bistro, Tara ordered her usual while Denise changed her order up some, and they warmed up with some coffee. It was familiar yet entirely new to both of them, and Tara didn't know how she felt about Denise being engaged. Happy, of course, but also a little sad. She knew why, but it was honestly both of their faults this was such late—and shocking—news.

"So, who is she?" Tara studied the blonde across from her.

She hesitated. "Uh, her name's...Sam."

Tara nodded. "Sam...?"

"Yeah. I met her a couple years ago. She's been there for me every time I needed her, and she's great. You'd like her."

"I bet I would." She tapped her finger against her cup. "You're happy together?"

"Very." She nodded and smiled genuinely at the brunette. "I really love her."

"That's great. I'm happy for you."

"Thank you."

Tara dropped her eyes and lifted her hand to trace the top of her cup. "Look...about why I called you so suddenly..."

"Yes?"

"I...am sort of...in trouble."

She blinked. "What do you mean? Surely not pregnant and not with the law, so...what other kind of trouble could you be in?"

She sighed. "I slept with Rosita."

Her brows shot up, and she looked winded. "Oh!"

She nodded. "It's happened a couple times, and...it's not exactly a relationship. It's just...casual, but I don't know how in the hell I'm supposed to do this. I don't know what we are or what to expect of her. It's confusing, and I can't just end it. I don't want to hurt her, and I don't want to lose her as a friend. I know I already screwed that up when we had sex, but I need to find a way to... Hell, I don't know."

"Okay." The edge of her astonishment began to ebb away at the agonized desperation in Tara's eyes, and she cleared her throat. "Okay, let's just take it back a bit. How did this happen? Alcohol, I'm assuming."

"Yes, lots of shots." Her eyes widened at the memory of the shots. "Lots of 'em."

"And...how did it happen?"

"I honestly couldn't tell you everything. It's still in pieces, but we were trying to cheer Carol up after Shane dumped her—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Shane and Carol broke up?" Denise exclaimed, momentarily forgetting her surroundings, and she apologized to the people who sent her a glare and lowered her voice. "When? And why?"

"Hell if I know. He just ended it, left her devastated, and we had to help her pick up the pieces of her confidence and joy. She was a mess for a long time, but she's come back around. She's happy and actually has a date in a couple days, and she's...better than ever. Shane never deserved her, but now he sure as hell doesn't."

Denise chuckled. "As loyal as ever."

"Damn straight."

"So, how did you and Rosita happen the next time? Drunk...or no?"

"Buzzed, actually." She began to rehash the second time, pausing when the waiter brought their food, and she could feel her nervousness about talking about her and Rosita fading with each word that escape through her lips. She didn't have to hide whatever the hell they were. She could get someone's honest and educated opinion, and she was thrilled to have the chance to do this. She didn't mind the questions and answers she could see swirling behind Denise's light eyes, and she didn't mind the slight judgement she saw there either. She honestly judged herself too for what happened, and that was weighing on her now.

Tara poured it all out on the table for Denise: her feelings, her experience with Rosita and any type of relationship, her friendship with Rosita, her new relationship with her, and most important her confusion and pain toward Rosita. She had nothing more to say. She had laid herself bare for Denise, and she was waiting for her reply. Her heart was racing, her palms moist, and she couldn't swallow. Her mouth was bone dry, but still.

"Relax, Tara."

"I am relaxed. I'm the definition of relaxed."

"Tara." She rested her chin in her palm. "You're so rigid I'm betting I could put my plate on your head and it wouldn't fall over."

She sighed. "I just need to know I haven't completely screwed up my work environment and one of the better friendships I've had."

"You're sleeping with an co-worker. That's never...something easy to deal with. You've already brought it into the office, and it seems you are again now." She searched those dark spheres. "You love Rosita. As a friend and as family, and now you're in a new relationship with her. A physical one, a sexual one, and all of what you were doesn't mean any less. She's still your friend, still part of your cop family, and now she's...more. Not a girlfriend, not yet, but she's more. It's difficult to process, as you're not the type of person to do this, to let the lines get crossed, but it happened. And you need to established what you and Rosita are, because going untitled as you are is hurting you. Neither of you can know what is expected of the other, and it's going to get messy. It probably already has, and whether or not you want to be in a romantic relationship, you need to work that out. Together."

"But not having a name for what we are is the only thing keeping Rosita from spinning off."

"I hate to say this, Tara, but Rosita is already spinning off. She's good at keeping a strong front, but underneath...she's already crumbling. She broke her rules, just like you did, and you're both in the same position, only she's not willing to take the next step. Abe screwed her over, crushed a lot of her hopes and wants, and I don't know if you can rebuild them, but you can try. You're pretty relentless."

Tara couldn't help but laugh at the memories that earned that comment. "I am."

"I don't know if you want more with her or not, but if you do...it's gonna be a long road. Littered with fights and stalling and reluctance. To say it won't be easy is an understatement."

"I don't know if I want more with her," Tara confessed.

"Then figure that out before you talk to her." She couldn't offer any more help until she knew which angle to approach with, and Tara needed to know where to go next. That was something she had to figure out for herself, and then once that decision that was, perhaps Denise could provide more advice. She couldn't point her in the "right" direction, but she could try and knock some of the bad ones away.

She nodded slowly. "Thank you."

"Why? You're paying."

She laughed again. "That's fine with me."

"The coffee's on me though."

"Good, because I want a nice, huge muffin too."

"I said coffee. The liquid only."

"A muffin was once a liquid."

"You have me there."

"So, I can get one?"

"I suppose."

"Well, then, thank you."

"You are most welcome." She wrinkled her nose at the brunette and giggled, knowing the road Tara had to walk down to make her decision would be challenging. It would cause everything to change, and it already had begun to change. For better or worse, Denise honestly couldn't say, but after tonight...it would be set in stone. Better...or worse.

– – –

"Are you all right?" Carol asked Rosita as they sauntered out of the building that night, stuffing her hands into her pockets to fight off the night air. "You've been quiet all day."

"I didn't get much sleep last night." She smiled at her. "But I will tonight 'cause you got a hot date, and we can't have you wearing this...on that date."

She blushed. "It's not that bad."

"It's cop-ware. You need something that's more you, something softer, but not too revealing. Maybe something in navy, to darken your eyes." She tilted her head to the side in thought. "Or red. It really does great things to your complexion."

"Good night."

"We're shopping tomorrow, so prepare for more of this!"

"Great. I can't wait." She throw a thumbs up over her shoulder.

"Lair!"

"Yep!"

She chuckled and shook her head as Carol ducked into her car and pulled out. Once alone her smile fell and she nuzzled her chin and lips under her scarf, ducking her head. She shuffled over to her car with a prolonged exhale, and she hoped she could resolve this mess inside—and outside—of her soon. She had meant what she said before; Carol wasn't the only one fumbling.


	15. Bar Food And Pillow Fights

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"It's me." Carol walked the length of the couch, talking to Daryl on her cell phone, biting her lip in anticipation of what he would say next. It'd been a standard greeting, but the ones she was used to make this seem uncomfortable. She would have to readjust. "Uh, Carol."

He chuckled. "I know your voice, and I know the number."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't sure."

"It's all good."

"Thank you for fixing our pipes for such a low cost. They work better than ever, and there's no damage to the apartment beneath ours. The super made a point to tell us how lucky we were that there was no damage to the apartment beneath us."

"He sounds like an ass."

"You don't even know." She sat down. "But I don't want to talk about him. I want to talk about our date. Is it still on? I mean, did anything come up? For you? I'm still free. I have no plans, no murders either."

"Yeah, we're still on."

"Oh, good." She let out a relieved sigh and rubbed the back of her neck. "Where do you want to meet?"

"I'll pick you up, take you to a little dive I know, and if you hate it, we can leave. But there is something I want to show you there."

"Is that a good...thing?"

"Yeah, it's nothin' bad. I promise."

"All right. What time?"

"How does five sound?"

"Early."

"Yeah, I know, but I kinda got a long day ahead of me on Sunday, so I need hit the sack early."

"Then five it is. I'm...really looking forward to it." She couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. "I have to get sleep myself, so good night. I'll see you Saturday."

"See you Saturday."

She hung up and bit her bottom lip again, remembering what Rosita had said to her when she left work, and she pursed her lips. She hopped up and looked at her reflection in the mirror that hung in the hall, and she straightened her spine. _Red_ , _huh?_

– – –

 _Carol felt fingertips running across her cheek, she moaned sleepily, the file she'd fallen asleep with tumbling to the floor as she shifted, and she felt those fingers weave through her hair with ease. She had flat ironed it for the ceremony, and there was only one person brave enough to mess with her hair after she spent a good hour and a half flattening every damned curl._

" _Good evening." She didn't bother to open her eyes._

" _Now, why do you say that like you know it's me?" His words held his amusement._

" _Because anyone else would know they'd end up with a fist to the face if they messed with my hair." She peeked at him through one eye, grinning, and she opened both eyes. "You're late."_

" _Nah, you just fell asleep on me." He crouched down beside the couch, rubbing his hand down her arm. "I gotta admit: I miss the curls."_

" _Nobody asked." She leaned over and kissed him, pulling away instantly at the taste. "You've been smoking?"_

 _He shook his head. "Not me."_

" _Okay, so a smoker made out with you then?" She stood up and defensively crossed her arms over her chest. "Well?"_

" _No, I just...went to one of my old contacts. I had to play the part."_

 _She stared with wide eyes, heart racing. "Are you going back under?"_

" _It was just for a little information—"_

" _Are you going back under?" she demanded, cutting him off and searching his eyes for the answer. "Shane?"_

" _I might have to."_

 _She shuddered and sat down. "Oh, God." She buried her face in her hands and shook her head. "Why the hell do you have to go? Why? What's going on?"_

" _It's just a rumor." He lowered himself down onto his knees in front of her. "We're not—they're not making any moves yet. It's just a rumor." He gently removed her hands from her face. "Baby, it's not confirmed. It was just to test the waters. That's all."_

" _Testing the waters so they can throw you back into the arms of that son of a bitch! They couldn't pin all of them, Shane, and they know you're dirty! You know they know! Hell, those assholes know too! They're sending you in there to die!" Her voice broke, but not from pain or tears, from raw, seething rage. She was beyond livid. "It's bullshit!"_

" _It is, but...it's my job. I have to do it. If they call on me, I gotta go."_

" _Shane—"_

" _Don't worry, I'll come back." He flashed his signature arrogant grin at her. "I have plans to marry you one day and have, like, ten curly-haired monsters with you. You're not getting rid of me so easily."_

 _She rolled her eyes. "Don't make jokes right now."_

" _Who says I'm joking?"_

" _I am, because fuck ten kids." He laughed, and she smiled weakly. "Talk them out of it. There are other people—rookies, even—who can do this. Who have a better chance of surviving—"_

" _Carol, Carol." He hushed her softly. "I know it's a lot, and I know it's stressful, but nothing has been decided. It ain't set in stone. It's just...rumors."_

" _I don't want to lose you, not like that."_

" _Oh? And how do you want to lose me?" He arched a brow, challenging her, and she moistened her lips, not saying anything. He smiled at her. "I love you."_

 _She blinked and stared. "What?"_

" _I love you," he said it with more confidence, his smile widening. "I know we haven't...said that to each other yet, and you don't have to say it back, but I do. I love you." He was sure months ago, but he wanted to wait before he said anything. They'd been together a year and nearly a half, and he loved her so much his chest ached with such warmth when he thought about seeing her or holding her. She was the best part of his day, and he wanted her to know that. That, and many other things._

" _Shane." She returned his smile and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "I love you too."_

 _He beamed and kissed her deeply, pulling her closer to the edge of the couch and against him. She held him tightly, praying that they didn't send him back under cover, praying this issue resolved itself, praying that maybe someone else could do the job just as well. She couldn't lose him, especially not now._

Carol opened her eyes and sat up, pushing hair from her face. "Damn it." She'd made it an entire month without dreaming of him, and right before her big date...there he is. And there she is, lost in the moment, in the memory, in him, and it's sickening, because he ended it. It was over, and she knew it. The entire world knew it, but one dream...and she felt like she did when he first said those words...

She buried her face in her palm, the other supporting her weight as she leaned, and she flopped back. She had a lot to do today, so this could sit on the back burner and char for all she cared. She had a date. She was excited about this date, and Shane, even the memory of him, wasn't going to stop her from enjoying this, from possibly finding someone new. Someone better. Someone she could love and trust and have it be worth it. It might not work out, but she had to try.

And if she failed, if their relationship failed, she'd try again.

She rolled over to check the clock, seeing it was two in the morning, and she closed her eyes to try and fall back asleep.

––

Rosita turned over for the fifth in twenty minutes, and she heaved a sigh, unable to sleep. She had to go shopping with Carol today, and it was depressingly already today, at a lovely two-forty-five in the morning. She couldn't fall asleep at all, and she couldn't even get comfortable. It was awful. She had to work today, as well as shop with Carol, so she needed some shuteye. Why was it so hard to fall asleep?

She flopped onto her back and groaned. She knew why. She knew exactly why. She hated this. This was why she didn't date. Losing sleep over something as trivial as Tara meeting her ex for lunch? How ludicrous. It wasn't a date. It wasn't romantic. They had broken up for a reason, and Rosita confident that reason was still hovering between them like a neon sign, and she didn't have to worry about them working past it. It was just coffee. That wasn't even a date. That was a bitter drink. Well, depending on what they got... Arg!

Although Carol had mentioned they were having dinner, a dinner Tara hadn't told the rest of them about. Maybe they were dating again. Maybe Tara was sick of her and wanted something real. She couldn't blame her. While she avoided anything real, she remembered how amazing it felt. If she had to choose between her and something real, she could choose something real—if she could let herself open up to it anyway. She always seemed to get burned. Real affection, real love, just never worked out for her. Abraham was the last straw.

She didn't want to mope, so she pushed the covers off and headed to the kitchen for a glass of wine. She wrapped herself in a blanket and sat down on the couch, flicking the lamp on to its lowest setting so she wasn't completely in the dark. She was tempted to down the entire bottle. It would help put her to sleep, but she honestly didn't have it in her to drink more than this one glass tonight.

Her mother always told her sex was never just sex, that you give a little piece of yourself to that person, and she always thought it was true. Until she fell in love then it became bullshit. The piece Rosita had given her first love was bigger than any piece she'd given anyone else. She'd been so lost in them and in their love, and she'd been so blissful with everything. She could still summon the butterflies she felt when they were going to meet up for lunch or dinner, or when she looked at the picture of them on her phone. She was so disgustingly in love that her family used to tease her. She didn't even care. She was elated and felt like the luckiest girl in the world. They couldn't possible understand.

That was until it ended. It felt like hell. Hell would have been preferable to what she went through, actually. Her mom said first love always felt like this, when it was good and when it was over. She said she went through the same thing, and it would be better next time. Her mom was kind and always tried to ensure Rosita had hope for the future, and Rosita respected that, loved her mom for that, but the next time hadn't been better. It'd been worse. Much worse, and Rosita turned to a bottle of anything to avoid her mother's kind lies.

Then came Abraham. God, she was stupid enough to think it'd work out. She thought this was it, and all of that crap her mom told her about love was true. She thought it'd be wonderful and lasting, and she had dreams. She hated to think of them now, and she cringed at how naive she had been. The things she said to him, the things she wanted and thought were possible with him... She was a child when it came to love, and soon she simply became love's bitch, and she was tired of it. All it did was hurt, and the amazing part didn't seem to be worth the ache of it ending. She didn't trust anyone enough to try again. It would end the same, and she honestly couldn't take it a fourth time. So Tara was better off with Denise. No matter how her stomach churned, no matter how her heart sank, no matter how much it stung, Tara was better off with someone who deserved her, who would treat her right and give her all the things she wanted.

A knock on the door stopped Rosita from clenching her wine glass into shattering. She wondered who it could be at this hour, and she hurried over to the door, reaching for the stun gun she had tucked away in the pocket of her unused trench coat. She blinked at the sight of Tara through her peephole, and she cursed.

She didn't want to have this conversation. She didn't want Tara to tell her how great her date with Denise went, and she didn't want to hear how their thing was over. She just wanted to drink one glass of wine and go to sleep. Why did Tara have to come and interrupt that?

"I know you're awake." Tara called from the other side of the door. "I heard your feet."

She unlocked the door. "What are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"It's not like you're asleep." She flashed a grin and stepped inside. "You shouldn't drink this late."

"It helps me sleep." She closed the door. "And who are you? My mother?"

"No, just a concerned friend." She sat down on the couch after removing her coat. "Why are you up?"

"Why are you?" She sat beside her, crossing her arms.

"I had an ass ton of laundry to do, and I had to grab dinner with a friend."

"A friend?" Rosita arched her brow. "What friend?"

"Someone from our rookie days." She shrugged. "I hadn't seen him in years, and he reached out to me some time ago. I just didn't have any free time, so I decided to meet him tonight. He's...changed."

"He who? Do you know how many hes we've met?"

"It's not important." She shook her head. "So, why can't you sleep?"

"It's nothing for you to worry about."

"Yet here I am, worrying."

She pursed her lips. "It's just...been a long, boring day. My mind won't shut off."

"I can relate to that." She smiled fondly at the memory of her lunch. "Denise... Well, first off, she's doing well."

Rosita repressed a frown.

"We talked for so long. She's still the same, but at the same time she's so different. I feel like no time has passed. We had an awkward moment, I'll admit, but...we just fell right back into place. I'd forgotten how much I liked her as a person." She chuckled under her breath. "I missed her, and I'm glad I got to see her today. We made plans for lunch again. It's somewhere new, somewhere neither of us have been, and I think it'll be great. Our conversation... Well, it means a lot to me. She's as professional as ever, and she's exactly the same with her career and advice, only happier."

"Well, it's been years since you last saw her. She couldn't moon over you forever."

Tara noticed the sharp edge in Rosita's tone, and her smile widened. "She's definitely not mooning over me."

"Why not? You're such a catch." She hated how bitter and sharp her words were. She couldn't control this tone. It had a mind of its own, and it was bullying back any other tones she could have used. Oh, well, she'd blame it on being grumpy, tired.

Tara shifted onto her knees and leaned into Rosita's personal space, catching her off guard. She searched those deep black orbs then clasped her cheeks and kissed her. Rosita was flabbergasted, but her eyes fluttered close, and she kissed her back. Perhaps a bit roughly, and she would likely leave her lips swollen, but she was still agitated. That wasn't going to go away, because of a kiss. Or several kisses.

Rosita pulled away from her when she couldn't breath and glared, trying to think through the haze Tara's kisses had left in her brain. "Won't your little girlfriend mind you kissing me?" she spat.

Tara chuckled. "I don't think so."

"Really?" she huffed.

"Denise is engaged. Happily engaged to her girlfriend." She smirked at the anger that fled those dark pools and the embarrassment that replaced it. "Don't look now, but you're blushing."

"Cállate!" She turned her face away, her cheeks burning enough to start a small fire.

"Okay, but I don't know what that means. I'm guessing shut up. I hope that's right. I don't have any translations apps on my phone, and I also can't spell that."

Rosita continued to turn away from her. "Why didn't you tell me that sooner?"

"It wasn't your business."

"It is my business!" she erupted. "How can you think it's not?! I...we..." Alarms went off inside of her at what she was trying to say, and she flew off the couch. "I knew Denise too! We all liked her, so how could you not tell me an old friend of ours was engaged?"

"I didn't know you used to be so close. I'm sorry."

"Well, there are a lot of things you don't know, so don't act so surprised."

"A lot of things, huh?" Tara stood up and nodded. "Okay, but I hope you know that means I'm forced to stick around."

Rosita blinked. "Wait, what?"

"It's pretty late." Tara yawned. "Mind if I stay over?"

"No, I don't mind. But what you just said—" She met her eyes. "I know we said weren't dating, and I don't want to. I don't want to date, but...maybe while we're doing this, we...only see each other. If you want to date someone els—someone, just let me know, and we'll drop this. But you have to let me know first, okay?"

Tara smiled at her. "I will. Of course I will."

Rosita nodded. "Thank you."

"It's late, and we have a lot to do tomorrow, so let's get to bed." Tara walked by her, taking her hand on the way and guiding her to her bedroom. Tara was already in her nightclothes, so she lied down and stretched out while Rosita went back to the living room to turn the light off and finish off the remaining wine.

Tara felt the bed dip when Rosita came back, and she rolled onto her side facing her. She waited until Rosita stopped moving then encircled her waist with her arms, Rosita tensed for a moment, as if she'd forgotten Tara was in her apartment, but she relaxed against her arms. She closed her eyes, and she felt Tara snuggle against her. She didn't know if it was the wine or the warmth, or maybe just Tara, but she drifted off almost immediately.

"Good night to you too, gorgeous." Tara brushed hair back from her face, placing a kiss to her cheek, and she nuzzled her face into her soft hair and passed out.

– – –

"What do you suggest?" Carol walked beside Rosita. "A dress? Or a skirt?"

"He said you were going to a dive bar, right? That doesn't mean someplace fancy. I say bring pepper spray and a stun gun." Rosita sashayed in front of her, turning to playfully smirk at her. "Maybe even your gun."

"Rosita!"

"I'm joking. Lighten up." She turned to her and stopped her from walking. "Okay, no dress. It's just too much for a bar."

"Okay, so a skirt? Or pants?"

"I'd say pants. As we mentioned before, you do have a great ass." She pursed her lips. "But you also have great legs. It's too cold for shorts, so I take it back. We'll go skirt. Maybe a tight top. You're not very busty, but it fits your figure."

Carol wasn't sure whether to feel complimented or insulted, so she simply crossed her arms over her "not busty" chest and listened.

"I'd say a high-waisted skirt, because they're just cute." She studied Carol closely then smiled. "I have this keyhole top that would suit you perfectly. Do you have any bras that are lace? Or black?"

"Maybe."

"Don't be shy, Carol."

"I'm not. I just..." She blushed from embarrassment. "I burned them all, okay? I had a bad night, they reminded me of Shane, and I burned them. Don't ask where. It really wasn't safe."

"Okay, we need to get you some then and that high-waisted black skirt, because we really need a good fit."

"I already feel ridiculous, and I'm not even wearing them yet."

"Oh, shoes." Rosita slapped her hands together. "We need to get you new boots."

"Why boots?"

"Heels aren't your friends, as we all saw at Eric and Aaron's wedding, and tennis shoes are not an option. Ergo boots." She looped her arm through Carol's. "Trust me, you're in good hands. Your credit card isn't, but you are."

"Dear God."

"Oh, buck up."

They spent the next hour and a half trying on the skirts Rosita had wanted to see Carol in, and Carol had to admit they did make her legs look great. Also her ass, which was odd, because she never thought of herself as having a great-looking ass, but there it was. She liked one in particular, but her wallet cried at the price, and Rosita made it her mission to find one similar to it within their price range. Carol was stunned to see Rosita so perky and helpful. She was laughing and smiling at all the faces Carol had that reeked of hell to the no with this skirt or that skirt, and she was damn near bouncy. It brought a smile to Carol's face at the sight of this Rosita, her friend, her family. She'd missed her.

"Are you sure you don't want to go with the leather?" Rosita held it out.

"No leather! Not even faux leather."

"Fine, but you looked like a knock out in it."

"No."

"Fine." She held out a cheaper version of the skirt Carol loved. "Here. I found this while you were drowning in patterns."

"Wow, it looks just like the expensive one, actually feels like it too." She smiled and held it against her hips. "Thank you. I didn't think we'd be able to find it."

"What can I say? I'm just good like that." Her heart warmed at the sight of Carol and the skirt. She knew it would do good things for her confidence tomorrow. "So, it's time for shoes."

"I have to pay for this."

"I already did." She held the bag up. "You were really drowning in those patterns."

"Rosita, you didn't have to do that."

"I know. I just wanted to."

"Let me reimburse you."

"No way." She held her hands up, like Carol had her at gunpoint then poked a finger at her. "Oh, and just so you know this is the part where you say thank you, and I say you're welcome, and we go on with our lives."

"Rosita—"

"Don't try and pay me, okay? Just smile and graciously accept it." She stepped back towards the exit. "Just promise me it'll stay on when he takes you home."

"Okay, _Tara_." She rolled her eyes and headed for the door.

"What does that mean?" Her heart fluttered.

"You two act the same way. Like I'll drop my clothes the moment I see him. I won't. I don't want a repeat of what happened at that club. I want something real, something more, and I'm going to wait for that part of our relationship." She huffed. "I'm not like you, and I don't mean to insult you, but you do only stick around for dinner and sex."

"That's the best part." She smirked and placed her hands on her hips. "You aren't going to insult me by telling the truth. I don't do relationships, and I know you have high hopes. So do I. I want to see you happy again. I mean, you're happy now, but there's a certain glow when you're with someone you really love. I want to see that her again. She's a badass in the office."

"Well, she wants to go home and be with her love, not chasing sickos down in Fishtown." She returned her smirk and looped her arm through Rosita's, placing the skirt back into the bag around Rosita's wrist. "Let's go find some boots to match this skirt and your shirt."

"I'll make you look like a ten when we're done. He'll lose his shirt—or he'll want to, but it won't happen, because you want to know who you're bedding."

Carol arched a brow. "Bedding? What century do you live in?"

"The one where I say the shit that I say." She inhaled. "And you get all red and weird when I say what I actually want to, so I'm censoring my words. I'll using bedding and making love."

"Oh, God, please don't."

"It's too late."

"Is it? I think Tara has time to come and join me. She has decent taste in shoes, at least."

"You're stuck with me. Chambler has court."

"Damn."

They picked up a pair of knee high black boots, and Rosita teased that if she wanted to play naughty school teacher, all she needed was a writing crop and glasses. She earned a glare from the curly-haired woman, but all it did was make her double over laughing, because she did seem to consider it. For about one second but it was still one second. She couldn't believe Carol. Perhaps she had a kinky side Rosita had to pry out of her. She and Shane were familiar with her handcuff after all.

– – –

"Damn." Tara came to a halt outside the bathroom where Carol stood in front of the full length mirror, shyly checking herself out, with her bowl of popcorn and bottles of beer. "Okay, you put me to utter shame right now." She wore sweatpants and a t-shirt so it wasn't mission impossible.

Carol turned from the mirror and smoothed out the top. "It—it's not too much? Or too little?"

Rosita peeked in, leaning over the arm of the couch. "Damn. I'm good."

Carol laughed nervously and flushed. "It's not that great. I looked washed out. I'm so pale."

"No, you look...stunning." Rosita flashed an encouraging smile at her friend. "You just need a little perfume and a little lipstick. You'll knock him on his ass."

"I don't wear lipstick anymore." She stepped out of the bathroom. "But thanks for the suggestion."

"At least you have a date." Tara plopped down onto the couch once the food and drinks were securely placed on the coffee table. "It's just me, Rosita and whatever movies sound good on Netflix."

"And any beer and wine we have in the apartment." Carol sat down on the love seat across from them. "Just be careful."

Rosita frowned. "Be careful? What do you think's gonna happen?"

"I remember the last time we were drunk together." She rubbed her exposed knee and checked her watch to see what time it was. She noticed how tense and quiet her friends had become and prompted their memory with, "We got black out drunk and had terrible hangovers."

"Yes, but that was your fault, remember? We were trying to help you get over Shane." Rosita crossed her legs, her heart returning to her chest and out of her throat. "You have a date, and we're celebrating."

"Yup." Tara had felt her heart actually stop beating for two seconds. "Tonight's for us."

"Well, the two of you should still take it easy."

"We will." Rosita rested her hands in her lap. "We're ordering pizza and hot wings, and we'll save some for when you get back from your date at, what? Six-thirty?"

"Shut up." Carol sent her a slight glare. "He has to work, and we might too."

"Don't jinx it!" Tara threw popcorn at her. "I will tackle your date and scare him off."

"With how nervous I am right now, I might just thank you." Carol flicked the popcorn off her lap and gnawed on her bottom lip.

"Don't be nervous."

"I hate when people say that." Rosita waved her hand at that statement. "It doesn't help, and it doesn't make you get over it sooner. It just makes you think something's wrong with you, because some people can force it back." She turned to Carol. "Be nervous. Be awkward. Be you. If he likes you, it really won't scare him off. And if it does, I'll run him over."

Carol laughed. "You'd do that for me?"

"I tried to hit Shane, but Miss Moral High Ground wouldn't let me."

"He was no where near the street, and there's no way you would have gotten away with it. There were witnesses everywhere!"

She shrugged and met Carol's eyes. "You'll be fine. I have faith in you."

"You shouldn't." Carol swallowed hard and sighed. "I'm going to throw up."

A knock on the door made her jump, Tara hopped up to answer it, and Rosita gave her a pep talk before Tara called to Carol. It took a moment for Rosita to pry Carol off the couch, and Tara had to shove her out the door, but at the sight of Daryl, she began to somewhat relax. If only she could remember how to walk, that'd be great too.

Daryl stood before her in a black long-sleeve shirt and jeans with a leather jacket, and he studied her, a pink tint crossing his cheeks, and he stammered out, "You look real nice."

Carol's heart fluttered. "So do you."

"Won't you be cold, though?" He gestured to her skirt.

"I have a long coat."

He blinked. "You'e not wearin' a coat."

"I'm not?" She laughed too loudly, her nervous nature overtaking her, and she darted back inside without saying anything. "Oh, God."

"What the hell are you doing back?" Tara was carrying a blanket in front her bedroom. "Was he creepy that quick?"

"I—forgot my coat." She yanked it off the rack. "I'll see you guys later."

"Have fun. And breathe." Tara made a sweeping gesture from her belly to her lungs. "It helps."

She nodded stiffly and slipped out. "I'm ready now."

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "After you." He followed her towards the exit.

Inside the apartment, Tara laid the blanket out and Rosita cuddled up against her, the first movie they'd pick going through the opening credits, and Tara wrapped her arm around Rosita's shoulder. She played with the ends of her hair, lightly enough to not draw her attention, and she smiled to herself. She had made the right decision, no matter the fight was ahead.

––

" _Hey." Tara met Denise for brunch, which consisted of bagels and coffee. It wasn't her choice, but it wasn't half bad. "That was mine."_

" _No, it wasn't." Denise polished off the last of the everything bagel they were splitting._

" _It so was. You took the left, and I called right. You owe me a bagel."_

" _I don't know what you're talking about," Denise said once she'd swallowed. "Besides you're the one who pushed up our plans. I wanted to have a nice lunch. It's a nice place, and I've heard good things about it. If we liked it, I could've taken Sam there. Surprise her after work."_

" _I couldn't wait." She sipped her iced coffee._

" _And why not? What revelation made you call me up in the middle of the morning to have coffee and bagels?" She was teasing, but at the seriousness in those coffee-colored eyes, she stopped. "What happened?"_

" _I thought it over. I went over every angle of what's happened between us and what we were like before that night." Her eyes softened. "She's my best friend—along with Carol—but there's always been something more there. I never knew what it was. I assumed it was the extra trust and history I have with Carol that no one else has, but that wasn't it."_

 _She nodded. "She's a very attractive woman. She's guarded and intelligent. There's no denying that."_

 _Tara shook her head. "It's not that either. I haven't worked it out yet, but I have figured out what I want from my...relationship with Rosita."_

" _That's great, Tara."_

" _It is, but it's also made things difficult." She moistened her lips. "I want a relationship. An actual relationship. With her."_

 _Her brows rose, but she remained silent._

" _Our relationship can never go back to what it was, and I don't know how I feel about that, but I do know that I feel...something towards her. It's not friendly, not anymore, and I want to build on it. I know building anything will be grueling work, and especially this, but...I think it'll be worth it." She smiled to herself, one of affection and tenderness, and Denise knew who she was thinking of. "I want to be able to say I tried my best, you know? Even if we crumble to pieces and can't go back to how we were, friendly or otherwise, I want to know I gave it my all. I don't want to walk away, not like...not like everyone else when she put up her walls._

" _And if she does lower them, if she does decide to want more, even if it's not with me, then it's still worth it. She'll find someone and start living that part of her life again. I know she wants to, and I want her to, even if it's not with me. I just hope I can get along with them, and that they treat her right. And also I hope she doesn't mention the fact that we used to sleep together."_

 _Denise traced her finger over the rim of her cup. "That's very selfless of you."_

" _Not really." Tara didn't love her enough for her to hope she did find someone once they—if they broke up. She was still being selfish with her mixed up feelings, and she wanted Rosita to be with her. It was very self-centered, but she never really had the chance growing up, so maybe it was all right to be just a bit selfish right now._

" _She's a lucky lady." Denise softly smiled at her. "I think you'll do well for each other. Like I said before, it'll be a rough road. Rosita...has made her feelings on relationships known, and so have you. You're polar opposites in this regard." Tara nodded. "However, Rosita protests her disinterest in relationships so much that I think she's trying to convince herself. You have a chance to slip through her walls, just do it gently. She's been through a lot, and she doesn't do well with change. At least not in relationships."_

" _I know. I've thought about it, and this is what I want. I just wanted to let you know that this was the decision I'd come to. I didn't want to wait." She cupped her mug and met Denise's eyes. "I want to thank you for agreeing to meet me. You have a life of your own, and here I am, pushing my problems on you. I'm sorry."_

" _It's fine, Tara. I don't mind." She studied her and parted her lips to speak but faltered._

" _What is it?"_

" _I—I felt I owed you after how...we ended things, if I'm being honest." She winced apologetically. "I wanted to make it right. I mean...I'm with Sam, and I'm happy, but...I feel guilty."_

" _Why? We haven't been together in years."_

" _I don't know why. I just do, but...since I started helping you, I've begun to feel better. I want to help you guys, and if you need anymore advice, call me."_

" _You don't need to feel guilty. Our relationship ran its course."_

 _She swallowed. "I know. I just...hate how we ended things. We're only just now seeing each other—two years later."_

" _That's on both of us, all right? Don't feel guilty. I didn't want to reopen the wound yet then work eventually took it off my mine. Apparently well enough that I didn't feel the need to...call or check in. You still mean a lot to me, Denise, and I should have tried to check in at least once. I'm sorry."_

" _It's okay. You didn't miss much." She exhaled. "I didn't try either, so don't apologize."_

" _Same to you."_

" _I'll try." She caught the time on her watch. "Oh, shoot. I have an appointment in twenty minutes."_

" _Aww, leaving so soon?" Tara hopped up. "I'll pay."_

" _No, I will. You paid last time." She swiped the bill before Tara could. "I'll see you outside."_

 _Tara nodded and finished off her coffee before leaving. She shuddered against the cold and tightened her scarf around her neck. She heard the door open behind her and smiled goodbye at Denise, ready to turn and leave. She wanted to dive into her car and blast the heat. She hated that it was so cold in October. She loved the snow, but she wasn't too fond of the cold. Maybe she'd make snow angels and have Carol make hot chocolate when winter came._

" _Hey," Denise called to her, moving blonde hair from her face, "could I confess something?"_

" _That depends on what it is."_

" _Nothing bad," she assured her, walking closer to Tara. "No confessions of love, either. Scout's honor."_

" _You weren't a scout."_

" _That is true, but you can trust me, right?"_

" _Eh."_

" _Tara."_

" _Okay, I do trust you."_

 _She inhaled and shivered before stopping close enough to Tara that they were nearly touching, and Tara wondered what she had to say. "Part of the reason we didn't work out was because of me."_

" _What? No, Denise, it was both of us, okay? We just...grew apart, and I think—"_

" _No, Tara, I mean this." She wanted to lower her eyes, wanted to cower away, but that wasn't who she was anymore. She wouldn't do that. Not right now, not when Tara needed to hear this. "I knew that if I ever had any competition for you...it'd be her."_

 _Tara's brows shot up._

" _It wasn't anything big, no gesture or—or any spoken words. It was the little things, things that suggested what could be, and while you didn't return them, I knew you could one day. That's why I began to pull away. I felt...like I was an obstacle, interfering with your relationship, and I didn't want to do that, so...I subconsciously slipped into the background, and eventually we broke up."_

" _Denise..."_

" _It's okay. It worked out for both of us. I have...the love of my life, and you have something to fight for. It's what we both need, and I'm not sorry. I'm not saying this to hurt you or guilt you. I want to encourage you. Whatever this is between you two has always been an option. That means she was willing to do this from the start, and you can work with that."_

 _Tara replayed those words in her mind, her eyes running over Denise's face, and she felt the last bit of second guessing that was holding her back snap as she met those light eyes brimming with confidence and encouragement_. " _Thank you."_

 _She grinned. "Let's go to a real restaurant for lunch then! I'll bring Sam. It might be a little weird, but I want you guys to meet."_

" _I'd like that."_

" _Then it's settled." She moved away. "Good luck."_

" _Thanks. I'll need it, won't I?"_

" _Very much so."_

 _She inhaled deeply and released it. "I'll see you at lunch."_

" _I'm looking forward to it."_

 _She turned on her heel and headed for her car, steeling her resolve._

– – –

The bar wasn't too bad. It was fairly empty, with a few patrons drinking and eating and having too-loud conversations in a buzzed stated. She wasn't sure she would ever come back here to just chill out, but it seemed all right for tonight. If worse came to worse and someone got handsy, she knew self-defense. She also knew the owner wouldn't let that happen. He was a good guy, and a lot of cops came to Jones' Tavern for First Thursdays. She felt out of place among all those homicide cops, so she didn't come herself, but Rosita went now and then, and Boss, of course. Glenn had too much on his place right now, and Tara was never fond of group meetings involving a lot of cops. She said it reminded her too much of wakes.

Daryl loosely wrapped his arm around Carol's waist and escorted her across the bar towards a booth in the back. She had removed her coat upon entering the warm bar, so she sat it down beside her and rested her hands in her lap to avoid knocking over the basket of nuts in the middle of the table between them, and he headed to the bar.

She inhaled and exhaled several times to slow her racing heart, but she could just feel the knot tightening. She didn't know how to do this. She never really did. Shane was the talker. He had an air about him that compelled her to speak, and he urged her and poked at her to talk about herself. Daryl wasn't like that, and she could feel her throat swelling, trying to keep all of her past and her darkness inside.

"I didn't know if you like beer or not, so I got you water too." He set the cold bottle of water beside the mug of beer and sat down across from her.

"Thanks." She reached for the bottle of water first, to try and moisten her throat.

He noticed how her hand shook when she reached over, her delicate fingers trembling as she twisted the cap off the bottle, and he felt relief flood him. "You're nervous too?"

She tensed, the bottle inches from her lips, and she swept her eyes up to meet his, dropping the bottle back onto the table. "Yeah."

He wasn't shaking like she was, but his heart was pounding so deafeningly in his chest he was sure the entire bar could hear it. A gross layer of sweat coated his palms, and he was sure he'd choke to death on how dry his throat was. He'd damn near dropped their beers twice on the way back over, and he couldn't drink it soon enough, but at the sight of her as equally nerve-wrecked as him, his...symptoms began to calm. They were still there and raging, but...not as much or as booming as they were moments ago.

"I just... Well, not just, but my last relationship of three years ended a few months ago. I—I know you're not supposed to say that on a first date, but that's why I'm like this. I was never good at dating in the first place, and now...I feel like a fish out of water. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I get it."

"You do?"

"Well, I haven't been in a three year relationship, but I can understand puttin' yourself back out there."

She smiled softly, shyly. "Thanks." She wrapped her fingers around the bottle, and her heart began to still. That was until she realized he might think she was still in love with her ex. "By the way, I'm not—I don't still have feelings for my ex. It's in the past, and I've moved on. I just want to be clear on that."

"Well, thanks." He turned his attention to the left, away from her.

 _Great._ She shrank back. _He probably thinks you're insane, or hung up on Shane. You shouldn't have even mentioned him. You should have just kept your mouth shut and talked about literally anything else. Of all topics you could have chosen, you picked the wrong one! All you had to say was you were nervous by nature! Or you were uneasy about the bar. Anything else!_ Well, she'd learned her lesson and would use it for the next first date after this guy never called her back. She honestly didn't blame him. She was so stupid!

"You play?" He nodded his head towards the now vacant pool table.

"What?" Her head snapped up.

He pointed with his thumb now to the table. "Do you play? It's open now."

Her mind settled. "I'm all right, I guess."

He smirked and hopped up. "Show me."

She opened her mouth to protest, but at the boyish smile playing on his lips, she smiled instead and found herself slipping out of the booth. "All right."

They dug the balls out of the sockets, placing them in the rack, and Daryl handed her a cue, letting her go first. She narrowed her eyes at him and accepted the pool chalk, but not the offer to go first. She stood to the left of him as he lined up his shot, and she studied the angle, seeing he was going for stripes. She normally went for stripes, but all right. She could use a splash of new on her old routine. She'd show the solids just who was boss, and maybe even Daryl.

He really had no idea who he was going up against. She and Shane used to play pool together all the time, and she and Tara as well. It was what they did instead of partying in college, and not to toot her own horn, but she was damn good at it. She let Shane win their first time at a bar, and he got such a big head about it. She whipped his ass the second time, and he was shocked to the core. Also kind of turned him on—

 _No!_ She scolded herself. _You're not going to waste any thought on him tonight. It's your first date in three years. Get your ass in gear and see how Daryl plays. He's your date. He deserves your full attention, not Shane._

He took his shot, earning his stripes, and Carol knew she was in for an interesting game. It would seem she wasn't the only one who played pool a lot as a young adult.

– – –

"How bad do you think she's going to mess up?" Rosita was now lying down with a blanket of her own, her head pillowed on Tara's lap, with a warm plate of pizza on her belly. She'd picked all the meat off and left the cheese and sauce. She had only had a couple slices. She was saving room for the wings, which involved sitting up, and she wasn't ready for that just yet. She was comfortable, and she would move when Tara moved. She hoped that was soon, because the smell of those hot wings was making her mouth water.

"I think she'll be okay." Tara sipped her beer, watching the original _Nightmare On Elm Street_ , trying to not laugh at how cheesy it looked now. It was a classic, but come on, what the hell was that ceiling scene? She honestly couldn't help but chuckle now and then. Modern graphics have spoiled her.

"She's not here. You don't have to lie." She peered up at her, smiling teasingly.

"Once she gets her nerves...down, she'll be fine. She's good at conversation, and who knows? Maybe Daryl's a talker."

"They're going to a bar, right?"

"Yeah."

"Let's hope he doesn't get her to play pool or darts. He'll be so sorry, especially if he gloats. She'll hand him his ass and he'll be so turned around, he'll be thanking her."

Tara laughed. "I doubt that'll happen."

"I've seen her do it a lot of times."

"Yeah, to Shane's buddies."

"Rick thanked her."

"For not utterly crushing him in front of his date."

"Still thanked her."

"That is true." She watched her eat the pizza while lying down. "Why don't you sit up? If you choke, I don't know what to do to help you."

"No. I'm comfortable, and if I choke, I know you'll help me."

"Why would I help you?"

"Because you're a good person, and what would you do without me?"

Tara pursed her lips. "Did you hear that sentence?"

"I didn't mean it like that. Perv."

"You're the one who said it."

She sat up. "I didn't mean it like that." She set her plate on the coffee table and drank her beer.

"Probably for the first time in your life," Tara muttered it under her breath, but with enough volume for Rosita to hear it. She was immediately met with a pillow to the face, and she blinked. "Did you really just hit me with a pillow?"

"It was that or my fist."

"Did you really just hit me with a pillow?" She snatched it from the floor.

"Tara, be mature."

"Says the one who started it!"

"I refuse to have a pillow fight with you. I'm an adult." She stood up and snatched the other from the love seat and chucked it at her, darting down the hall for cover. Tara's bedroom was down there with about five pillows, and she knew the memory foam one she'd gotten for Christmas hurt like a bitch when it hit you.

"An adult my ass!" She shot up. "It's on, Espinosa!"

"Bring it, Chambler!" She bolted for the bedroom to claim the memory foam pillow.

––

Carol couldn't help but grin at her last—and winning—shot, Daryl ran a hand through his hair, and she couldn't tell if he was a sore loser, or if he was deciding dating a woman who could beat him at pool wasn't cool. She had lost some of her grin when he didn't raise his head for about a minute, but when he did, it was with a laughing look, and her grin perked back up, a laughing escaping through her lips.

"You said don't hold back."

After the first couple of rounds of him winning, he told her to play with full strength, and she wasn't sure. She didn't want to put him in a sour mood by beating him, and he assured her she wouldn't. She didn't really believe it, but she played anyway. She didn't want him to know the side of her she _thought_ would be appealing. She wanted him to know her, all of her, and she was still a long ways away from showing him everything, but she could do this.

"Well, yeah." He chuckled and adjusted the cue in his hand, strolling over to her and leaning against the table. "Guess I owe you somethin'—for winning, you know?"

"What do I get?"

"How about the food I mentioned?" He pushed off the table. "I heard your stomach growl half an hour ago, but you were so into the game, I decided to wait to bring it up."

She blushed. "Right. I was...too nervous to eat lunch."

"Guess I got a lotta orderin' to do. I'll be right back." He headed over to Jones.

She reached over and finished the beer he'd gotten her. They'd brought their drinks over after the third game. He'd even lost the leather jacket, and she was pleased. Immensely pleased, as he was extremely fit. It wasn't easy to tell before, when he wore so many layers, but with just the undershirt on, she could see the curves of his muscles and the hint of toned abs underneath when he leaned over to strike the ball. She had pretty much spent most of the last half hour ogling him. She tried not to, but please, water couldn't be dry.

On the bright side, she had seen him looking her over more than once. The skirt did cover her well, but the keyhole blouse revealed the black lace camisole she wore underneath. She wasn't brave enough to wear only a bra, and it was the first date. She wasn't going to tempt fate. She was waiting. He was gorgeous and toned, but she was waiting. She had to. She couldn't be that intimate with some stranger again, even though Daryl and the bathroom guy didn't compare. Granted she couldn't remember him, but they didn't compare.

Daryl watched Carol lost in her thoughts with the empty mug of beer still in her hands, and he rubbed his palms on his jeans, catching Jones smirking at him. "What?"

He lowered the glass he'd been drying. "You've been here for three hours."

"Yeah, so?"

"Three hours at that pool table." He smirk widened. "With her, talking and flirting and laughing."

"It's a date."

"A date you just happened to...bring here?"

"She's a cop. She's been here before."

He held a hand up to wave away the defensive bark in Daryl's tone. "Your food will be done soon. Maybe it'll brighten your mood."

"I'm not in a bad mood."

"Let's hope not. This is the best date you've been on."

"What would you know about my dates?"

"I'm the one you complain to when you're drunk and an asshole," he reminded him. "I've scraped you off my floor more times than I can count, son. Remember that."

He flushed somewhat. "I just don't wanna screw it up," he whispered.

"You're doing just fine from where I'm standing." He offered an encouraging smile. "Just...lay off the booze."

"Will do." He stood up and paused. "Thanks."

"Just take care of her. She's...family here." He knew Tyreese, and he'd heard all about her and her breakup, and he considered her to be under his wing. She was a good kid. He'd seen her and her friends peeking in through the windows to check out all the homicide cops and their shields. He'd seen her grow up into the fine detective and young woman she was now, and she deserved to be happy. He knew Daryl pretty well, and he knew he would treat her right. He'd make her happy, and she'd make him happy. They were a good match.

"Of course." He turned and saw she was gone, and he blinked.

"Bathroom," Jones told him, having seen her go. "She didn't ditch you, pretty boy."

He sent him a glare and returned to their booth.

In the bathroom, Carol gripped the sink tightly, the room appeared to be spinning, and she couldn't catch her breath. She knew what this was, and she had hoped it wouldn't happen. Everything was going great. They were making banter and laughing together. She felt happy with how things were going, so why in hell was she in here? Holding onto the sink like it was a lifeline? It was going well. Great, even. So why?

She shook her head and rocked herself back and forth, a heat crossing her face. She squeezed her eyes together and steadied her breathing. It wasn't going to be her last relationship, she knew, but that didn't mean it wasn't going to last for only tonight. They could have weeks and months and years together. They could have only a couple of days together. She didn't know. It wasn't set in stone. It was just the first date. There was going to be lot of...struggles, and if she wanted go overcome then she had to overcome this.

She opened her eyes and met her reflection. _It's okay. It's okay. You're okay. Just breathe. Just breathe._ She began to wind down, the panic fleeing as her grip loosened on the sink, and she shook her head, curls slapping her in the face. She stepped back and held her hands up so she couldn't reach the sink. She panted like she'd just ran twenty miles, and she felt shaky. She hadn't felt like this in so long. She'd had the warm blanket of security with Shane the last few years, and then the knowledge of being alone the last few months, but now she was exposed. She had exposed herself to the world, to Daryl, and she hadn't read the situation in hours, lost in playing pool and laughing. With the silence came the creeping thoughts that suffocated her, sent panic coursing through her veins, and this happened.

She exhaled and set her hands on her burning cheeks, the cool contact making her gasp, and she kept them there. After a moment, she moved them to the back of her neck and expelled another breath. She shivered and gulped down the rest of her panic and stress. She was on her first date in years, and she wouldn't hide in the bathroom. She wouldn't let her emotions win. Not tonight, not again.

She rejoined Daryl at the same time their food was done, and she heard her stomach growl again. She blushed and dropped into the booth, hoping he hadn't heard it, but at him nudging a plate of fries over to her, she knew he had. She really should have eaten before coming on this date. Geez. She wanted to attack him for even touching the food meant for her.

"So, you do this every Saturday?" It took every ounce of her willpower to not inhale these fries and swallow without chewing them. Every. Ounce.

"Not every Saturday," he amended. "Just every other."

"Is there a reason for it?"

"Not really, just good wings." He cleared his throat. "And I'm not much of a cook."

"No?"

"It's burned or raw."

She laughed. "I'm a decent cook. My mom's best friend taught me. Had she not, I would have probably starved, because I was awful when I first started."

"Your mom didn't teach you? Or your dad?"

She instantly lost her appetite at the mention of her mom and her dad. "They never had time."

"Workaholics?"

"Sure." She played with the steak fries in front of her, and he noticed.

"Do you want any sauce?" He gestured to the hot sauce and ranch dressing. "I can get ketchup."

"I'm fine." She eat one plain to try and ease his concerns. "So, umm...how's your brother?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Not really, but that's the first question that came to mind."

He nodded. "Merle's good. He's at home, not causin' trouble."

"That's good."

"Just means he's gonna bug the shit out of me when I get back."

"You live with him?"

"Yeah, above his business. It's separate, though. Like one half is his place, and the other is mine. They have different locks and layouts. We're more like neighbors."

"You must get along well."

"It's up and down. We're...uh, different people, but he's still my brother. I'd do anythin' for him, just nothin' illegal."

She nodded. "There's that loyalty again."

A blush rose on his cheeks, and he ducked his head. "You got any siblings?"

"No, but Tara's like a sister to me." Rosita was like a cousin, but she still loved her dearly. "She has a sister, though, and a niece. It must be nice—to have siblings to grow up with."

"It ain't all it's chalked up to be. It's all right, and you got a lifelong friend, but...sometimes havin' someone who didn't grow up...in the same situation as you...is good." His blue eyes pulsated with sorrow and rage for the briefest of seconds, and he shook his head, shaking the look and memories away. "They can't blackmail you with embarrassing stories, too."

"Trust me, Tara still has plenty."

"Does she?" He arched an intrigued brow.

"Uh, no, not really."

He chuckled at her backing up. "Okay then. Could I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Why did you decide to become a cop? I mean...don't most educated women become lawyers or doctors?"

It was her turn to chuckle. "I wouldn't know about that, but I decided to become a cop to become the voice of the victims. Most of them couldn't escape their situation, couldn't call for help, and I could relat...really understand that. I wanted to become their voice, to...give them the attention and safety they didn't have in life. I was—and still am—very passionate about it."

He smiled to the left of his mouth. "That's an amazing reason."

"I don't know about that, but it is mine." She cleared her throat, feeling heat creep up her neck from his undivided attention. "Um, so...where are you from?" She placed a cool hand on the base of her neck. "You don't sound like you're from here."

"I'm originally from Georgia," he replied. "Me and Merle moved up here when he was twenty-five."

"How old were you?"

"Fifteen."

"Wow, you were a child. How did your parents agree to let you move states away?" Her own father barely let her go out of the house as a minor, let alone out of the state.

"It's...complicated, but...maybe I'll tell you about it one day."

She nodded. "Not mysterious at all."

He smiled weakly. "It's just...personal."

"I understand. Everyone has personal stories, even me." She shifted in the booth. "I hope...you trust me enough to tell me one day."

He studied her eyes, the stunning sapphire that seemed to shine with honesty and authenticity, and he lost himself for a minute, unable to speak. He had never known eyes to have this affect on him, and warmth began to fill him. His heart began to race, and he couldn't look away. She was simply...stunning. There were other words he could use, but his mind...wasn't cooperating with him.

When he blinked back into reality, she was nibbling on a hot wing, apparently given up on him answering, and he wondered what the hell that was. Embarrassing and probably creepy as fuck, but he hoped not. He didn't want to chase this one off, though if she was like any other girl he dated, Merle would chase her off on his own. And if he didn't or Daryl didn't, well his past just might.

– – –

Rosita finally managed to get behind Tara without her noticing it, she adjusted the pillow in her hands, and waited for her to edge her way down to that spot where she stood. She could hear her feet on the floor, trying to be sneaky and quiet, and the stalker music from _Nightmare on Elm Street_ that played from the TV nearly cover her movement up, but Rosita was good at filtering out sounds. She could hear her nearing and readied the pillow.

Tara stepped out from the safety of the hall and was met with a pillow to the face. She fell to the floor, groaning at the heaviness that just whacked her in the face, and she looked up to find Rosita triumphantly standing over her. She used that cocky bliss to clap her ankles over Rosita's and bring her down. Sadly, Rosita didn't fall sideways. She fell forward, the memory foam pillow slamming into Tara's gut along with Rosita's weight, and Tara was pretty sure she kneed Rosita in the hip. But hey, they were both groaning now.

"You okay?" Tara hadn't opened her eyes since Rosita fell on her, but she could imagine the glare there.

"I'd be a lot better if you weren't such an idiot."

"You know, so would I."

She laughed. "I was kidding."

"I wasn't." She peeked at her. "You're all right?"

"Yeah." She pulled the pillow out from in between them and let it fall to the floor. "You need to throw that thing out. It could double as a weapon."

"You're the one who smacked me in the face with it! I'm lucky to not have a bloody nose, or black eye."

"I didn't use that much force." She sat up some from Tara and examined her face, tenderly tracing her jaw, and Tara feigned a wince. "You're so full of it."

"I'm really injured here. I could die."

"Oh, you could die? Death by pillow?"

"Blunt force trauma, and you should be nicer to someone who's dying."

She smirked then leaned down and kissed her, the action appeared to astonish Tara as she jolted underneath her, but she quickly recovered. She kept one hand on the floor to balance her weight, the other tucked loose hair from previous attacks behind her ear, and she parted Tara's lips gently with her tongue.

This was the first time since the whole Denise thing came out that Rosita had actually initiated a kiss. They had slept together, but it was just in the same bed, and even once Carol was gone, they still hadn't done anything beyond sitting together. She had been hesitant, and she wasn't entirely sure why. She knew if she lingered on it, it'd come to her, but she didn't want to think about it. She didn't want to know the answer. She just wanted to kiss this woman and have it be that simple, if only for one single minute.

Tara grasped a handful of Rosita's hair, her legs tangling with hers, and she reached up with her free hand to cup her cheek. She didn't know how far Rosita wanted to take this, but she would let her make the first move if she wanted to take it further. She didn't mind doing just this. It was like being a teenager again, only with the less likelihood of her dad walking in, or Lilly.

Having thought that, they heard keys jingling outside and shot up. Carol was back from her date!

"Oh, shit. Go, go, go!" Tara thrust the pillow at Rosita and pushed her back towards her bedroom. She kept the lights off and ducked by her bed, her heart pounding.

"Why are we hiding?" Rosita was beside her on the floor.

"I don't know!" She whispered as though Carol were outside her bedroom door.

"This is your apartment, and we were watching movies. Won't this just make her suspicious?" Rosita was mirroring her tone unthinkingly.

"I didn't think it through!"

She laughed then stroked Tara's hair and let her hand fall. "Come on, dork."

––

"I had fun tonight." Carol held her coat folded in her overlapped arms. "The food at Jones' is surprisingly tasty."

"Yeah, I found that out when I first turned twenty-one. His place was the first one I went to to my first drink. He made me eat first."

"That's where you had your first drink?"

"Legally."

She laughed. "I'll have to tell you about my first time. Not now, but...maybe on our next date?" She held her breathe, her heart racing in her ears, and she feared she wouldn't be able to hear his answer at the volume.

"Yeah," he answered swiftly.

She nearly melted into a puddle of relief and excitement. "How about Friday night at seven? If I'm able, we can go someplace meaningful to me."

"I look forward to it." He glanced at his watch. "I'm not lookin' forward to tomorrow morning."

"We stayed out pretty late. I'm sorry."

"I'm not." He smiled and searched her eyes, and she thought maybe he was going to kiss her, but he stepped back. "It was worth it. I'll call you tomorrow. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, it's okay." She sounded overeager, but he seemed more amused by it than scared. "Uh, get home safe."

"Good night, Carol."

"Good night." She returned his smile. "Daryl."

He waited until she was inside before he left, and she waited until she was inside before she smiled like an idiot and buried her face in her coat. She couldn't believe it'd gone so well. She couldn't believe they had a second date. She had a second date! Holy hell, she was dating. She was dating Daryl.

"Someone's in love," Tara singsonged in a teasing manner at her roommate. "Could that someone bring me that pillow? Please? I'm comfortable."

She lowered the jacket and picked up the couch pillow, joining Rosita and Tara. She stared at the two of them and looked at the pillows lying on the floor. "You two seriously are a couple of kids." She tossed it onto the love seat and followed suit by plopping down. "How's the movie marathon going?"

"Who cares?" Rosita moved beside her. "How was your date?"

"Was he a gentlemen? If not, I'll hit him with Rosita's car."

Rosita sent her a glare.

"I'll tell you—"

As the words left her lips, all three of their phone vibrated with the assigned ringtones they had for Boss, Aaron and Glenn, and they knew it was serious. For them to be calling the three of them at the same time at this hour meant something big had happened. Something that could cause mass panic throughout the city, along with mass murder.


	16. Blue Lips And Bad Vibes

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

All three women ran into the bullpen, Glenn and Aaron were sitting in the back while Boss spoke with the Agent Taylor and Stillman from the cold unit, and Glenn caught them up to speed on what was going on. Carol, Rosita and Tara stood there and listened to all Glenn was saying, and to what they could hear from Boss, Stillman and the agent from the Department of Homeland Security.

"Our boys undercover have heard there's been heavy movement of C4," Glenn proceeded. "We can't confirm it for sure, but...it's coming from multiple sources. _Reliable_ sources. This can't ignored."

"C4? Like C-frigging-4?" Tara gaped. "Are you serious?"

"Afraid so." Aaron nodded. "We even have Agent Taylor, Homeland Security."

"Wow, top dogs." Rosita crossed her arms. "Today's about to get a lot more interesting."

"Oh, right, I forgot. You get all hot and bothered over bombs." Carol shook her head.

"Damn straight." An eager smile crossed her lips. "Let's go take down a bomber."

"Easy." Tara caught her arm. "Let Boss come to us. This is a sensitive matter, Ro."

"Fine."

Glenn, Carol and Aaron blinked at the pair, Tara released Rosita's arm, and Rosita scanned the room for any more agents. No one could ever calm Rosita down after the news of bombs. While in training, she would get so hyped over it. She wasn't thrilled or excited by them, but by the idea of taking one out. She didn't care about honors or anything. It was just something about bombs that, as Carol said "got her all hot". It was strange, and nobody could explain it. Likely that Espinosa had fiery attitude and a bomb...well, is all about that fiery death and explosion.

"What?" Rosita noticed the looks they gave her. "I can calm down. This is...urgent business, and I do need to keep my head on straight."

Tara nearly chucked at that, but at the glare one of the agents sent her, she swallowed the rest of the sound and coughed. It was inappropriate given the circumstances. She knew the trepidation and pressure would set in once this thing was confirmed—or if they had no leads and only the knowledge that someplace in Philly was rigged to blow and there was nothing they could do about it.

"Why don't we just keep it down?" Aaron suggested. "I doubt the big wigs like all this conversation."

"I doubt they like anything," Carol murmured softly, not particularly fond of the feds. She knew they meant well, but they always took command. She liked to take orders from Boss and Boss alone. If the cold unit's Lt. wanted to come up and help them out on a case or give them one, because the cold unit could only do so much with their low numbers then that was fine too. Stillman was a good man, and she respected him. But the feds? She didn't know them from Adam, and she didn't just hand out respect, especially not when the ones she'd met on previous cases were complete jackasses. Given that this would prove to be a high-priority and stressful case she doubted they'd remember their manners.

"Boss says to play nice," Glenn told Carol. "I think he was directing that at you."

"I'll play nice, but I won't like it."

Once Boss, Stillman and Agent Taylor had finished their meeting, Boss thanked Stillman for the information, and Taylor said he wanted to meet the team he'd be working with. Boss knew Rosita would be hyped for this job, and Carol would be standoffish, because she was no fan of the feds. She was the one cop who didn't quite like them. As for Glenn, Tara and Aaron, his biggest worry was them— _Tara_ —asking what his worst/favorite job was at the wrong moment. He knew Taylor, had a past with him, and he knew his team would work well with him once this thing got hot, and it would quickly, if the rumors were true. They had to be more than rumors, he reminded him, the feds did send their best and then DHS sent Taylor.

Tyreese motioned to them to come over, and he introduced them with a gesture. "This is Rosita Espinosa, Tara Chambler, Glenn Rhee, Carol Peletier and Aaron Raleigh, and this is—"

"Agent Maneul Taylor," Carol intervened when he came closer, and she nearly smiled. Okay, maybe partnering up with the feds wouldn't be so awful, not if the higher ups sent them Taylor.

Agent Taylor wasn't who they were expecting. A crusty old white guy with a short temper and a boring haircut was who they were mostly picturing, and as they could only see the back of him moments ago, they were all stunned. He was gorgeous, definitely toned, dark eyes alert and ready for anything. He wore a suit with no tie, and he didn't smile, his jaw clenched somewhat, but not because he was annoyed or disliked them. It likely came with his job title.

"I see you've met Peletier." Boss's eyes flashed with curiosity.

"Yeah." He said nothing more. "I assume you've all been debrief."

"With as much information as we've been given," Glenn replied.

"Good, because this is when it gets real. We have confirmation of C4 being brought into the city in large quantities. We have narrowed the location of the C4 down, but it still a massive portion of the city. It's all hands on deck for this, but we cannot afford to alert this person or persons of our presence, so plainclothes. We'll hit the streets and find it." He pointed to Carol. "I want you with me. Rhee and Chambler, I want you two to go with Ronald and Rachel, and Espinosa and Raleigh, I want you two to contact any informants you have, even the most useless ones."

"Wait, what?" Rosita blinked. "Why?"

"Because this person or persons are using old channels. Your undercover days? The people you met with? Those channels. That's how we caught this. An informant tipped us off. Peleteir and I will meet with him before we join you all in combing through the streets." He turned to Tyreese. "Is there anything you want to add?"

"Just this." His eyes moved from over the eyes of his team. "I want you all to treat Taylor and these agents with the same respect as you show me. Listen to their orders and tread lightly. To say this is a delicate matter is an understatement. Proceed with extreme caution."

"Yes, sir."

They split up into their groups, Rosita threw a glance back at Carol and Manuel, narrowing her eyes as he went over the section of city they would be patrolling, and Tara caught Rosita staring at them. She already knew about Taylor, but Rosita and the others didn't. She wouldn't bother trying to explain it, but if she asked, Carol couldn't get mad that Tara answered.

Glenn spoke with Ronald, glancing over at Boss, Carol and Taylor. He wasn't sure how he felt about Taylor breaking them up, but he'd get over it. He was used to being partnered with his partner, but he'd worked with Tara a bit too. Typically during interrogations. This would be interesting, to say the least. He hoped Ron and Rachel didn't mind Tara's sarcasm. The more pressure there was, the worst she became to try and alleviate that pressure. He might have to prepare them.

Carol slipped into a coat to cover her obvious cop clothing, and Manuel guided her out of the building behind the others. Carol saw him toying with his phone, but it wasn't the phone she'd seen him using inside. It was a cheaper phone, likely a burner phone, and she opened her mouth to ask him why he had it when he pulled her into a cripplingly tight embrace.

She gasped and smiled, hugging him back. "Jeez."

He released her and reached up, but she smacked his hand away. "It's tradition."

"No." She wasn't going to walk around with ruffed up hair. Her curls did that fine all on their own. "Stop it."

"All right, but I'll get you later." He smirked at her. "You look good. I haven't seen you in years."

"Yeah, it's been a while." She stuffed her hands in her pockets and walked down the steps. "You look healthy."

"Healthy? That's all I get?"

"All I got was good." She stopped by the car. "And we have a case to work, so come on."

They got into the car, he pulled out and drove across town to where whispers of movement were originating, and Carol wrapped her scarf around her neck. They were going to either be roaming the streets in the cold, or sitting in the car in the cold. She wasn't sure which it was, but she was ready for either course. She just hoped this ended quickly. She hated the cold, and she hated the idea of bombs. Such raw power. They weren't easily contained, and if they were armed, there was nothing she could do about it.

"There's someone I gotta meet with." He undid his seat belt. "So why don't you grab some coffees?"

"Why can't I come with you?"

"Because he's skidish. He barely trusts me. I don't want to overwhelm him." He hopped out of the car. "And you're already turning blue around the lips."

She rolled her eyes and slipped out of the car, watching him jog over towards a dark alley. She walked over to the gas station across the street. It wasn't anything fancy, but hot coffee was hot coffee. Mostly. She wasn't going to argue over it. It tasted better than office coffee so it was a win. She was tempted to get something sweet, but she had more important things on her plate than a sweet tooth. Looking causal or not, Philly was in a lot of trouble right now, and she couldn't munch on a muffin or Pop-Tart. It didn't seem right.

She exited the station and spotted Taylor, and her heart nearly stopped at the informant he was meeting. It was Shane. He stood about fifty feet from her, draped in a black overcoat, a black beanie, and he had grown out his facial hair. He had a goatee now. He looked great, handsome and healthy and working with the Department of Homeland Security, so he was moving up in his career.

He didn't see her, only parted ways with Manuel and ducked back into the dark of the alley, and she stood stalk still until Taylor was beside her and touching her hand to accept the coffee she'd gotten him. Her heart was still pounding in her chest, and her gaze found his.

"Shane? That's who you were meeting?"

He heaved a sigh and drank from his cup. "Yeah.

"You lied to me."

"I was trying to spare your feeling and avoid an awkward moment when I talked to him."

"You know we broke up?"

"Yeah. He came and stayed with me for a bit." He cleared his throat and met her eyes. "Look, I didn't lie to hurt your feelings."

"I'm not a child or teenager. I could've handled seeing him again, talking to him. Where's the trust, Taylor?"

"Have you considered that maybe he couldn't have handled it?" He studied her. "I saw the guy raw after you two split, and I don't want to be in the middle of that."

"Why not? You were in the middle of it before." She headed down the street to begin their patrol. "It's never stopped you."

"That was different. That was before you two were serious, and that was before...just before. It was years ago, and it has nothing to do with how things are now."

"We have a case to work. It's the priority, not our past. Let's just get to work." She glanced back once more to the spot where Shane had stood. He was thriving. She must have been a glass case, smothering all the air and the light and potential out from him. Perhaps she and her love were little more than glorified cage.

He sucked in a long breath and nodded. _Pretty much how I thought that'd go._

– – –

"Is this the part where you explain to me why we're in the middle of nowhere?" Tara looked over at the agents who were driving the fancy black SUV. Don't get her wrong. She loved the leg space and the lack the scent of rusted coffee the boys' car always seemed to have, but she didn't like not knowing where she was going. She could tell Glenn didn't either, but he said nothing, simply kept his gaze out the tinted window.

"We're almost there," was all Rachel said.

She scoffed slightly and folded her arms over her chest. She didn't want to be problematic, but they weren't offering them anything, not even a kind word. They were just driving and exchanging looks, and she wasn't sure how she was supposed to trust these new allies when they wouldn't even answer the most basic of questions. She wanted to call Boss and have herself reassigned, but that would be childish. He'd probably lecture her too about the severity of this case and how they needed to work together.

Work together, right. Taylor just chopped their team up and took Carol for himself. Tara wasn't fond of that at all, given their history. She never really took to Manuel. He's an all right guy, close friends with Rick and Shane, a sucker for a good lager and a classic big brother type, but there was just something about him that rubbed her the wrong way. When Carol introduced her to him all those years ago, it stuck out like a sore thumb, but she couldn't quite figure out exactly what the hell it was about him that bothered her so much. She figured back then it was him taking Carol away for five damn months, however now that he was back and Carol was with their team, it was still there.

She wasn't possessive enough to dislike due to him taking Carol away the moment he saw her, and she didn't think he was a bad guy or bad agent. There was just something about him as a person that she could not stand. She knew he and Rosita would definitely get into it. They were clashing types, and he demanded their respect and their attention instantly while giving little in return. That would definitely piss Rosita off, and quickly. He kinda ticked her off too. At least the feds were only playing mystery games with them unlike their buddy from Homeland Security.

They were all on the same side at the end of the day, working together to accomplish the same goal, and it didn't matter how bitter she was about him taking Carol or taking command. In the end, they all had to stop this dude from wiping people out and destroy lives. If Taylor could help them do that then they were fine. If he could assist them in saving people then great. She would refrain from being bitterly sarcastic and sending him glares now and then as she had when Carol brought him over for dinner. Tara still wished Carol had brought home a puppy that night.

"We're here."

Tara looked up and found that they were outside an underpass, and her nose crinkled. "Why are we here?"

"A lot of people lurk here," Ron answered. "That means a lot of news passes through here too. We flash our badges, see who see shaken up most, and we get answers."

"We know a guy here," Rachel added. "He's seen a few suspicious characters around here lately."

They got out of the car, Ron and Rachel went on ahead, and Tara shook her head and rolled her eyes at the gray sky above them. She hissed out a white puff and followed Glenn towards the groups huddled up around fires set in trashcans.

"Can you say grasping at straws?" Tara muttered.

"I guess even the feds run out of leads now and then."

"Is that supposed to make me relate to them better?"

"No, it's just sad really."

"True that."

Rachel and Ron went from huddle to huddle, taking to people and flashing their badges. They had received a lot of useful tips too, to Tara's surprise, however they were more for the DEA. A lot of drugs moved through here, and Tara tried not to laugh how great this would have been had this happened a couple weeks ago. It was more sad irony than humor, though, and she didn't want to get glared at, so she kept it to herself. She decided to try and find Glenn. She'd lost him. He was just here a moment ago.

Glenn crouched down beside a fire where a young woman was bundled up against a wall, and she jolted when he neared. "Hey, hey, it's all right." He held his hand out, not his shield. "I won't hurt you."

Panicked brown eyes met his, and she shook her head, matted hair bobbing about, and she tried to shrink down and away.

"Hey, I'm a friend." He smiled gently at her and reached into his pocket to dig out the meal bar he'd tucked in there for breakfast. Maggie didn't approve of his breakfast choice, said real food was better, but he had a habit of waking up late when their baby kept them up most of the night. A meal bar was fast and easy. It proved useful now. "Here. It's...a peanut butter cup. It's good."

"No."

Glenn frowned. "I don't want anything in return. Just...here." He held it out. "Totally just a gift. I promise."

She studied him for a good minute, seeing a woman drawing near, and she carefully accepted the food from him. She had heard the others asking questions, and she knew what they were there for. She leaned forward toward the cop and whispered by his ear before running off.

"Hey." Tara hurried over when a girl ran off. "What was that about?"

"I'm not sure." He looked over his shoulder, frowning. "Twenty-four? She's just a kid."

"Yeah, that's pretty obvious." That was from Ron. "No way in hell is she twenty-anything. A lot of homeless kids hide here. I guess they figure it's better than risking abusive foster homes. It also lowers the chance of them having a future."

"I need to go after her." Glenn rose. She couldn't be older than fourteen, he realized, having seen her now in the light. She was no young woman. She was just in baggy clothes and hid well in the shadows.

"We have more crucial matters at hand," Rachel told him. "She'll be fine for now, and once we secure...things, you can come back. There's a shelter down the block. She can go there."

That didn't reassure him. "Yeah." He had her face burned into his mind. She was a skinny little thing, coarse hair matted up, dark skin dirty and clothes over sized and holey. He wondered what happened to her parents. He couldn't imagine that happening to Lauren. He'd sooner die than let her roam the streets alone in the cold. Or perhaps that's what happened with her. Her parents died, and she had no one else to turn to. The world failed her, the system failed her... If he ever saw her again, he wouldn't fail her. That was the real promise now.

"C'mon, we still have people to talk to." Rachel set a hand on Glenn's shoulder, hazel eyes filled with sympathy. "We'll find her later."

He sighed. "Yeah."

––

Rosita and Aaron were halfway through their old contacts from their UC days, Rosita wasn't thrilled with being separated and having Carol with that Taylor. There was something about him that didn't rub her right. It might be something about them, but honestly she wasn't sure. She couldn't see Carol, Little Miss By The Book, doing anything with someone above her. Way above her. Although if they'd met in her rookie days, she doubted Taylor was much of anything. So maybe, but nah, it was Carol. She was probably drooling over Shane.

Rosita had known the woman since their rookie blues, but they did transfer Carol for a short time. There was a whole five months missing for their friendship during that period. She might have met him then, and they could have been just friends. There was a vibe there. An I've-seen-you-naked vibe. Either Taylor liked to strip down, or he and Carol fucked. It was one of the two. Normally she didn't jump to that instantly, but that vibe was strong the moment Carol figured out who their DHS buddy was. And if anybody knew, it was Tara. She could get it out of her. All she had to do was ask.

"Hey, Wilson." Rosita greeted her old—and favorite—informant. "What's up?"

"Not much." He flashed a toothy grin at her. "I'm stayin' outta trouble, don't worry about that."

"I know." She tucked her hands in her pockets to stave off the cold. "I don't doubt it."

"So, whatcha need?" His eyes moved to Aaron who was shuddering in the breeze. "And who's this?"

"A friend." She didn't bother looking back. "I need info. You have the best."

"Damn right." A dry chuckle escaped chapped lips. "I just...need a little incentive. This old man's mind... it's like a maze. I'm not too sure I can give you the correct information. The good stuff."

"Here." She handed over a twenty. "I need to know who's bringin' in C4 and who they're after."

He looked over the twenty with a big grin and nodded. "I'll tell you. I'm a man of my word."

"I know, so spill."

"Well, rumor has it...the father is coming to repay a debt. He'll pay in full, and it'll be more than just explosive." His eyes lightened as Rosita's lips parted slightly, her eyes burning with understanding, and he added, "The countdown has already begun, but don't worry. It's the day yet, but soon."

She gasped and turned to get Aaron. "We have to go."

"Why? What did he say?" He had to run to catch up to her. "Rosita!"

"It's a dirty bomb!" She spoke over her shoulder, digging the keys out of her pocket. "And it's already been armed!"

He stared at her. "But—but we have no clue who built it or why, and we don't know where the hell it is! Where are we going?"

"Back to headquaters. We need to tell Boss."

"Tell him what? We don't know much of anything, Rosita. And—and if this gets out, it'll incite mass panic. Do you know how dangerous that is? Just as much as the bomb. We need to think this through."

She swallowed. "We can't just sit on this."

"I know we can't, but calm down. We'll—we'll figure this out. Do you know how much time we have?"

"No, but we have time." She met his eyes. "Just not much."


	17. There's No I In Team

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"Wilson said it wasn't the day," Rosita relaid to Boss and Agent Taylor.

"What day?" Boss inquired. "What day is he waiting for?"

"I don't know. He speaks in riddles basically." She threw her arms up. "He can't be anymore specific than he already had. He probably didn't hear anything more."

"Okay, we'll bring him in all the same. We need to know more." Taylor ran his eyes over the map of the city tapped to the white board. "What exactly did he say? Tell me again."

She sighed. "The father is coming to repay a debt. He'll pay in full, and it'll be more than just explosive hence my conclusion that the bomb is dirty."

"No one's heard of radioactive material being moved," Taylor reminded her.

"Until now," she shot back.

"Guys." Carol set a hand on Rosita's shoulder. "We need to focus on who the father is, not fight each other. The bomb is armed and likely waiting outside or inside whatever structure he's looking to blow up. We need to keep our heads on, all right?"

"I'll take it into consideration," Taylor commented, "but until I have proof, it's just a theory. We have more important things to deal with. Peletier, Williams, come with me. Why don't the rest of you get something to eat? It's been hours, and I doubt you've had anything."

"What's so damn special about Peletier?" Rosita blurted when they disappeared into Boss's office. "Why is she in the know? Why does she get to tag along with them? Not that I want to, because he's an ass!"

Aaron smirked. "A hot piece of ass."

"Oh, don't even." She sent him a sharp glare. "You will not call him cute."

"Fine, I just won't use my eyes." He sat down at his desk and avoided eye contact with Espinosa.

"What's wrong?" Glenn stood beside. "He's not our enemy. Why are you so angry?"

"Because I know what I'm talking about! I've worked with Willie for years, and I know what he means, even when it's weirdly worded and out there. It's a dirty bomb, and it's been armed."

"Okay, so it's dirty and ready to blow," Tara acknowledged, "what now? Who is the father? What day is it it'll blow? What debt is he repaying?"

"I don't know, but it has to be this month. Something happened within the next couple of days that ruined this dude's life."

"That's a lot of days," Aaron pointed out. "And that's not counting the years we'd have to go back and search through reports, and they're all over the city."

"Okay, so we just search the reports in the Badlands."

"Seriously?" Glenn gaped. "It's named the Badlands for a reason, Rosita. We'll be there all _year_ , and the bomb will laugh at us as it goes off."

"Well, that's where the movement is!" She snapped. "I don't know anything more. Willie won't talk to cops, and he won't trust me if they bring him in, which they've already gone to do! I don't know what to do, but I am trying."

"We know." Tara repressed the urge to grasp her arm and instead opted for a small smile. "We're trying too. We just...have to keep a level head—"

"Willie saved my life," Rosita interrupted her. "I was nearly found out, but he saved me. Now the thing he's afraid of most is about to happen, because that bastard won't listen to me! That's on me, Tara." She turned on her heel and marched out of the bullpen.

"Ro—"

"Don't." Glenn caught Tara's arm to stop her. "We should let her be. We have work to do, and we need you."

She looked at Rosita's back before she disappeared down the hall and released a reluctant sigh. "Okay. Let's get to work. The...clock's ticking."

– – –

Carol sat outside on the steps with a hot dog in her hand, Manuel was on the phone with his boss, and Carol was trying to eat to at least have a lunch for today. It went down cold, and it felt like rocks in her stomach. There were so many more important things for her to be doing, and eating a hot dog on the steps of her work wasn't one of them, not when a dirty bomb was lurking somewhere in the city.

"Here." He held out a cup of hot coffee once he'd finished with his phone call. "This probably tastes better than the hot dog. One thing this vendor's good for." He sat beside her, close enough that their shoulders were touching, and she welcomed the warmth.

"Thanks." She wrapped the foil around the remaining hot dog and set it on the ground, curling her fingers around the warm cup. "Smells good."

"Yeah." He rubbed his fingers across his jaw.

"I'd ask if you were all right, but I already know the answer." She crossed her legs, her boot barely avoiding his knee. He was taller than she remembered, his hair darker, and he looked rather solemn. She was sure the expression was glued onto his face. She didn't remember him being like this. It was a trying time, but he always found moments for laughter. Yet he looked like he'd smack the shit out of anybody who dared crack a joke. Hence them eating outside in the cold of late October. She didn't want him to go off on Tara. She was displeased with him for cutting them out of the meeting. Carol was too. She would have to talk to him about it.

"Hmm."

"What's going on? Aside from what I already know." She studied him.

"It's...just some stuff." He lowered his hand and met her eyes. "It's my shit. I leave it at home."

"It doesn't seem to be at home right now."

"True." He smirked. "Guess you always could figure me out."

"I was your pupil for five months. I just know you well." She drank from the cup. "Still better than the office coffee."

He set his hand on her knee and squeezed. "That's why I need you beside me through this. I need you as my right hand. It's gonna be rough, and I need your support."

"You already have it." She pursed her lips. "But it comes with a stipulation."

"And what's that?"

"Work with Tara and Glenn and Aaron and Rosita. I've known them for years, and they're good people. They're great at their jobs, too. We work together best as a team, and you need to open up to them. It'll only strain things. Right now we need to be with each other, and each other are the people upstairs, stewing because you won't include them. It doesn't install trust, and if anything, it'll only make things harder going forward."

He sighed. "I keep a tight circle. I always have. You know this."

"I do, but...four more isn't going to kill you."

He balled his hand up and tapped her knee twice. "Fine, I'll try, but no promises. I still...like a small circle."

"And why am I still in it? We haven't spoken in years."

He chuckled. "You just..."

"Just what?"

He was reluctant to share what she was to him, Carol was curious why he was quiet and for the first time hesitant. She was about to ask a question when the sound of the door opening sent her jaw clamping shut.

"Hey." It was Tara, who's eyes fell to Manuel's hand on Carol's knee and their close proximity. "We have a caller, claims to be our bomber."

Manuel jumped up and flew inside before they could even blink, Carol swiped her hot dog off the ground, and they hurried inside, though they were met with a busy elevator due to Manuel ditching them. Carol sipped her coffee and offered the hot dog to Tara while they waited, and Tara sent her a slightly judgmental and disapproving glare.

"What's with that face?" Carol frowned around her next sip of coffee.

"Just you and Manny, all chummy again."

"We're just friends, Tara. Like we've always been."

"Yeah, "friends"."

"Don't use air quotes." She turned to her, a streak of red rising up in her cheeks. "Say what you mean."

"You're with someone. It was just one date, but you like him. A lot. I can tell. You had a great time with him, and you have a second date. Yet here you are, drooling over Muscled Manny."

"I am not drooling over anyone! Least of all Manuel!"

"Oh, Manuel, is it?"

"Stop it." She smacked Tara's hand that fluttered up at her down and stepped onto the elevator. "I hate when you do this."

"Me? I'm just looking out for you. You said you wanted a real relationship, not just sex."

She glared. "It wasn't like that."

"Carol, it was like that." She stepped inside beside her partner, her roommate and her best friend to deliver a spanking hot new flash. "You two rented a cabin in Mexico for a two weeks, and all you saw was the bedroom. You didn't do anything but each other. Then there was the month off you took after the shooting—"

She shook her head. "It wasn't like that, Tara."

"You didn't love him," she softly imparted. "You don't even feel that way about him. Trust me, I know you better than you do most days. Don't fall back on old habits, no matter how good and comfortable they make you feel. He doesn't love you, Carol, and there's no future there. I know it sucks to hear, but it's the truth. It's a bitch."

"For the last time," Carol snapped, "it wasn't like that. Believe me or not, I don't care, but don't fill in the blanks of my life. You're my friend, but I don't tell you everything."

Tara blinked at her outburst. "What didn't you tell me?"

"I don't want to reopen old wounds. It happened, and it's over."

"Did you tell only him?" Tara could hear the hurt in her voice, and Carol's heart contracted. She didn't want to hurt Tara, which was why she kept it hidden. Hidden was torture, a prison of one's own making, but hiding was safer. Nobody got hurt. Until moments like these. "I thought we were best friends. Why wouldn't you tell me?"

"Because I didn't." Those whispered words were all Carol offered as the doors glided apart.

Glenn put a finger to his lips when the pair entered, though he could tell he didn't need to. They weren't talking or looking at each other, and Carol was basically hugging a hot dog to her chest. He didn't want to know what had caused this mood, and they had bigger fish to fry, but he made a note to tend to them when he could.

"Tell us what you want," Manuel spoke to the man on the phone. "We can make this work."

Tara stood beside Aaron, arms crossed protectively over her chest, and she avoided eye contact with a certain curly-haired detective. Aaron and Glenn exchanged a look, one Boss had even taken part in, and they knew it wasn't as bad as Tara and Rosita, or Rosita and Carol; it was a minor fight, and they'd make up to each other within the day. Or the next couple. This was normal, but not good news. They had enough stress on their shoulders without their teammates fighting with each other.

After a couple moments of swaying, Manuel scoffed and held the phone away from his ear.

"What?" Carol shifted behind.

"He's laughing." He hung up the phone. "At us."

"Was it a prank call?"

"I don't know. They were using a voice inverter, and we couldn't pinpoint their location." He heaved a sigh. "I can't one hundred percent say if this was the real deal or not, but...they went an awful lot of trouble to make contact."

"Just to laugh at us?" The left corner of Aaron's lips turn downward in irritation. "That seems a bit much, and we haven't said a word to anyone in the media. There's no way this could have gotten out."

"Maybe someone leaked something," Boss suggested.

Manuel scanned the room and scoffed once more. With a near lethal hiss, he demanded, " _Where the hell is Espinosa?_ "

– – –

Sadly no one could answer that question, or get a hold of Rosita, and then midnight swung around. Boss sent them all home, wanting them to remain clear-headed and alert. He knew they would all stay here and drink coffee and energy drinks until their hearts stopped then drink some more. He wouldn't give them the chance. It was late and while this was a time sensitive case, they were good for nothing if they were exhausted. Jumpy and caffeinated detectives were worse than any rookie who had only book experience.

Glenn was out the door first. He had to pick up some things from the store, and he didn't waste any time. He didn't even say goodbye. He just bolted. It was no surprise. He had a baby girl and the love of his life at home with a bomber on the loose. He was likely going to make sure they left the city. They'd all seen him on his phone now and then, and they knew Maggie and Lauren were in Maggie's childhood house with Hershel and Annette. Or the woman being as stubborn as she was had Beth take Lauren and was waiting for her husband at home. As long as Lauren was safe, Maggie would stay planted by Glenn's side. If the bomb took out the whole city, she'd be there with him. She wouldn't let him go through this alone. That was the kind of relationship they had. It brought envy to all of them, save two of them. (Three of them, if they was being honest.)

Aaron was the next one out. He managed a brief goodbye, hurrying out the door. He was exhausted and had to talk to Eric. He had actually gotten him out of the city. He was staying in New York for a couple of days, and Aaron had already made arrangements with Boss to head up when this case was over. He would need some time off with his husband and the puppy when this case was closed. He couldn't think of another possibility, of this ending on a sour note. Eric wouldn't let him. He'd sent him photos of him and Buttons all throughout the city and texted him about restaurants he wanted to try when Aaron joined them. He refused to believe they would be parted like this. It was that relentless belief that kept Aaron from stressing too much. He was overwhelmed by his panic, but he wasn't alone in it, and he had his lifeline. Hours away, but he still had him. Well, them. Buttons had his heart, and he couldn't deny that. And he couldn't wait to hold both of them again.

Carol and Manuel left together, hands buried in their pockets, scarves wrapped firmly around their necks. Carol let him drive her home, and she was surprised—and thrilled—when he followed her up. He didn't say anything, but the question played in his eyes. She nudged him in the ribs and showed him in.

"Leave your stuff there." She gestured to her coat and scarf on the hook. "I'll put on some...soup or something. I don't think I can eat much."

"Ditto." He placed his coat and his scarf over hers on the rack, finding the couch and dropping onto it. "I have a hotel room, but honestly...I'd rather not go there right now."

"That's fine by me, but you might wanna scram when Tara comes home." She bent down and removed her boots, stumbling towards the kitchen. "Whoa!"

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She freed her foot and sighed, heading to the cabinets to find soup. She wanted something hot, but not coffee or tea. She didn't want to be up all night. She wanted to be able to sleep. At least as much as she could with a dirty bomb counting down somewhere in the city. Good God, she was going to be awake until the end of days, which could be tomorrow or tonight for all she knew.

She found herself reaching for her phone, and she stopped. No. She couldn't call him. It was the middle of the night, and he couldn't know. This was to be kept under lock and key. She had given her word to Boss, as they all had, that the news of the bomb wouldn't leave the office. Mass panic would only hurt them. They had no answers to provide balm to the pressure the bomb was putting on them. It was in an unknown location, crafted by an unknown unsub, and it was counting down. They had no clue how long they had. Or the reason behind the bomb. What debt was to be paid. They were scrambling in the dark, and as much as she wanted to tell him, he'd tell someone. Then that someone would tell someone else they cared about and so on and so forth until the entire city knew. So no.

She set her phone on the counter and moved away from it. She pulled out a pan and two cans of clam chowder. She yanked on the pull tops until the pull tab came off, but not the top. She groaned and slammed it down onto the counter.

"Don't take it out on the Campbell's." Manuel walked up behind her. "This is my favorite, so I'm likely to side with it."

"Don't." She covered her eyes with her hand. "Just don't."

"You don't." He set a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, probably too hard. "I'm good at my job. I'll—we'll find a way to take care of it."

"How do you know that?" She felt tears slip through her fingers. "How do you know we aren't just running around, wasting time?"

"We don't, but we gotta...keep trying. It's our job. We're going to protect this city and its people, okay?"

"We don't know anything." She whirled around. "We could be out of time right now, and I can't warn anybody. I—I want to, because I don't know if we can do this. I have faith in us, but there are so many unknowns here, Manuel. How can we do this?"

"We'll fit the pieces."

"That's not an answer."

"I'm not good at answers. I just know we'll come out on top. We'll bring in Willie tomorrow once the uniforms locate him, and we'll get more out of him. Or see if he knows if anyone else knows. We'll find something, someone, some clue—it'll be fine. I know how to pick up a trail when there's not one."

"You're not a bloodhound. You might not find anything." She snuffled and wiped at her eye. "But we might. As a team."

He smiled. "You just needed to cry, didn't you?"

"I'm stressed the fuck out right now, Manny." She huffed. "I'm not sad."

"You cry when you're stressed. That's all I meant." He hugged her. "It will be fine."

She buried her face in his chest and swallowed the urge to argue with him. Right now she just wanted to be in her pajamas in her bed with soup. She'd deal with everything else later. She had no choice, really, even if later didn't come.

––

"Hey." Glenn opened the front door to find Maggie waiting for him on the couch, messy hair tied back, and she smiled and tackled him in a tight embrace. "I missed you too." He wrapped his arms around her.

"How was today?" She released him. "Did you...find anything out?"

"No. Well, yeah, but no." He dropped the bags he had in his arms on the couch and rubbed his shoulder. "We have riddles."

She climbed onto the couch after him when he fell back with a heavy sigh, and she wrapped her arms around his and didn't dare move away from him. "What do you mean?"

He dragged a hand through his hair with his free hand. "Willie, Rosita's contact, told us some lines about the father repaying a debt in full soon, and that the bomb was more—it's radioactive."

"Oh." She felt the color drain from her face. "You don't have anything more to go on?"

"No, we know it happens this month, and we know...the bomb's been armed." He peered at her. "It could go any second now, for all we know."

She held his arm tighter. "Do you have any leads? I mean, maybe Willie knows more."

"They're bringing him in tomorrow. He kind of vanished on us."

"He's a homeless old man. Where could he have gone?" She didn't mean to sound harsh, but he had nothing. He had no family, no real friends, no home or job or money. There was nowhere he could go that the police couldn't find him. Unless he fled the state, but he would have likely done that when he caught wind of the bomb. He stayed. This was his home. He'd die here. So where was he?

"I think he may have had help."

"Rosita?" Maggie's brows rose. "Why would she do that? She knows the severity of this case. She knows what Tyreese will do to her if he finds out she...helped a witness—the only witness—evade the cops and the FBI."

"And our pal from DHS."

"Taylor's back?"

"For now." He nodded. "He's...just how Tara described him, and nothing like Carol said. It took me a long time to figure out that was the same Manny Taylor from her stories."

"Was he really as cute as they said?" Maggie was trying to lighten the mood, seeing the effects of this bomb hanging under her husband's eyes. She could feel the weight on his shoulders, and she couldn't lift it. It wasn't something he'd let her do anyway. He wanted her safe, but she wouldn't leave him. It was selfish to leave their baby with Daddy and Beth, especially knowing she might not see her again, but she couldn't leave him. She would never forgive herself. If the world was going to hell and it started here, well she'd be right there to walk into it with him.

He chuckled, though it held little humor. "According to Aaron, he's a hot piece of ass."

"Ooh, now this have I see."

"Maggie." He met her eyes with all seriousness. "You have to go."

"No."

"Yes. You need to be with our baby. I can't. This is my job, but you can be. She needs you right now."

"Right now, she needs a warm bed and love. She has that right now. What she needs in the long run is both of us. You and me, as her parents, but it's not the long run, so I'm here with you." She set her jaw. "I married you knowing days like this would come, and I'm not flitchin' just cause some asshole wants to blow up half the city. I'm with you until my last breath—that was my vow, and I meant it."

"Mag." He could only smile. His words, his arguments, his disapproving looks wouldn't persuade her. His headstrong wife was with him through and through. They were literally facing death, and she had his back. He should feel blessed and damn lucky—and he did—but he also felt a stone sinking into his stomach. If he couldn't stop this, if he failed and lost everything, caused his baby daughter to lose everything...

"Hey." Maggie caught his chin and made him look at her. "We'll get through this together. You have your team, and you have Manny's. You'll get it done and come home to me. I know you will."

He leaned over and kissed her. "I love you, Maggie Rhee."

She wrapped her arms around his neck. "I love you too, Glenn Rhee." She pulled him closer and pressed her lips against his once more.

––

"Hey, you." Eric smirked happily at Aaron through the video chat screen, Buttons playing on the hotel bed with his favorite elephant toy in the background.

"Hey, you." He sat down and dragged a hand through his hair. "How is everything?"

"A little crazy. Buttons isn't fond of the bellboy."

"Bellboy? Where are you? We can't afford anything that luxurious. We're still paying off the honeymoon."

He laughed at his husband. "I'm kidding. I'm staying with a few friends from work. The Coopers? They invited us up months ago, and I decided to take them up on their offer."

"They're not asking any questions?"

"Just when you're getting here." His smile lost its practically forced bliss, and his eyes lost their shine. "When...when will that be exactly?"

"Eric...I already told you I don't know. I might not..." He straightened in his chair and sighed. "I don't know when."

"You said it wasn't looking good, and it's only been a day. Things can't go completely to shit in one day. They just can't. Not like this." He inhaled to steady his voice. "I—I just can't believe this is happening, and we're miles away from you."

"I know. I'm sorry, but I need to know you're safe. If you're here with me, I won't be focused on the case. I'll be focused on you and him. I'll worry if you're out of range, or if you went on a random coffee run and got caught up in this. I can't lose you." He swallowed. "I can't, not after all we went through to find each other. It was hell, and I can't go through the rest of my life...knowing it was my fault."

"Aaron—"

"I have to do my duty to my shield and to the people. They are my utmost concern as a cop, and I can't let them down, not this time. Not when down is mass murder and destruction and devastation. I have to be on the top of my game as a detective. I have to."

"Aaron—"

"But as a man, I have to protect you," he interrupted him again, his eyes unable to meet those clear orbs on the screen as he spoke. "I have to keep you safe above everyone else. You're the only person in this messed up world that I want by my side right now, but I have to keep you out of blast range. I have to keep you two safe. You're the love of my life, okay? That's something I am going to shield until my bones break and I have no breath. If anything happens to you because of it...I wouldn't survive it. I couldn't live with that knowledge and still be sane, be who I am. I just couldn't."

"Aaron, for the love of all things, shut up." Eric wouldn't be shut down again. "I know. I know all of that. I see it every time you look at me, all right? Every time. I know how much I mean to you, because it's how much you mean to me. I can't breathe knowing you could be within range either, idiot. I want to be there to save you, but I can't be, because you're right. You'd worry about me, and I need you to worry about everyone else. All the little babies and kids, our family, the people and assholes in our city. I need you to do right by your oath, so I'm here in this city that doesn't shine or seem all that great without you, and I'll stay here until you come to get us. You just better come and get us, Aaron Raleigh, or I'll kick your ass."

He swallowed again, clearing his throat. "What if I've been cremated by the bomb?"

"I'll kick your ashes, of course."

He chuckled and ducked his head.

"I love you, you silly man, now get some sleep and fuck this bomb's shit up tomorrow."

He laughed. "Is that an order, Mr. Raleigh?"

"You're damn right it is."

"Okay." He reached out and touched the screen where Eric's cheek was, longing for it to be the real thing. "I'll have him in handcuffs before the week is done."

"Good, because our son is driving me insane. He keeps chewing everything, and if you don't stop him, I'm going to take a bath and drink all the wine in New York."

"You wanted him."

"Yes, but I thought he'd be cute and good."

"You thought wrong. It's a puppy. It's like a baby, only...in some ways better."

"In some ways?" He looked over and his eye twitched. "He's chewing on my cell phone right now! Buttons, no! Bad! Stop it! I am trying to save your life Don't you snarl at me! You're the size of a Beanie Baby!"

Aaron rested his head in his hand, laughing at the sight of his husband wrestling his phone away from the six pound puppy, a single tear rolling free. He couldn't tell at this point what emotion claimed that tear, because all that soared through him was love and determination.

––

Tara watched Carol and Manny stroll out of the building, and she was twitching at the sight of them shoulder to shoulder with no space between them. _No friends stand that close!_ She wanted to shout, but there was no point. Her energy was needed elsewhere, but her anger was split between the bomber and those two fuckers. She just didn't want Carol to throw away what could be something real for something...brief and painful. Maybe she didn't have all the facts, but maybe Carol didn't realize Tara knew Manuel too. A completely different side than the man she knew.

She exited the building, sighing and watching white puffs float upward and vanish in the air. She just wanted to go home and sleep. She was beyond ready to crash then wake up and toast this asshole. She would smear him over actual toast at this point. She was pretty hungry. Starving, actually. She should have gotten lunch, but she wanted to find a clue. A hint, a whisper of who the fuck this person was, but she had nothing. In both food and luck.

"You heading out?"

She found Rosita sitting on the hood of her car. "Uh, yeah."

"Good." She hopped up. "My ass is frozen."

"Ro—"

"Just drive." She opened the car door. "I'll explain at my place."

"Does your place have food?"

She smiled. "I ordered some Chinese food. It'll be there by the time we get there."

"I could kiss you right now."

"Maybe later. I need some chapstick first."

Tara laughed and got into the car after her, blasting the heat and driving to Rosita's apartment in silence. She wasn't sure what to make of her right now, but she didn't say anything that could provoke her. She was hungry and a little worn out from not having slept the previous night, and she honestly just wanted some good company, food and sleep. She already had one of the three. Soon two of the three. God, she hoped soon, or she'd eat her car keys.

Rosita tossed her coat on the couch and set the food down on the coffee table when they entered the apartment. Tara was still tipping the delivery boy, resisting the urge to tell him about a bomb ticking away somewhere in the city. He was a teenager, likely saving for college. He was so young. Like so many others in the city. She closed the front door and shrugged out of her coat, yanking off her scarf and finding Rosita pouring herself a glass of water.

"Why do you look so surprised?" She sat with crossed legs on the couch, placing the bag of food in her lap to distribute it.

"I don't think I've ever seen you drink water at home."

"Well, drinking wine won't help our case." She handed her an egg roll. "And I'm out at the moment."

"Ah." Tara sat beside her. "So, that's the real reason?"

"Yep." She lifted a teasing gaze to the raven-haired woman. "Here. I got your favorite."

"How do you know my favorite?" She opened it and found it actually was her favorite. Most people got it wrong, save for Carol who'd been eating Chinese with her since they met each other.

"I pay attention." She handed her a spoon. "Chopsticks are annoying when you're starving, so here."

"Okay, do you stalk me?"

"No, but I know you've been looking over this case from the moment our phones rang. I doubt you left the office to have lunch, and you'e not that great with chopsticks in the first place." She set the bag on the floor once she'd dug out her own food. "And the sooner we eat, the sooner we can get in bed. Rest up for tomorrow."

"I love how you decided that I was going to stay over for me."

"Please." She swallowed before talking again. "Like you want to go home where Carol and block-head are."

"That's true, but you don't how strongly I dislike him."

She laughed. "Tara, the entire squad knows. You gave him stank face when you saw him."

"I didn't."

"You did. It's funny to think back on." She made a clicking sound with her tongue. "It's in my memory bank now."

"You're not funny."

"But your face is." She mixed up her noodles. "That sounds horrible, but you know what I mean."

"You're lucky I do. That could have hurt my—oh, I don't know—my feelings and left me damaged."

"If I wanted to hurt you, you'd probably enjoy it." She lowered the container in her hands. "'Cause I couldn't."

"What?"

"I couldn't hurt you—er, any of you guys. You're my family, and I care about you all, so I couldn't hurt you. Fight with you, yes. Get pissed and irked by you, yep. But I couldn't intentionally hurt you." She cleared her throat. "Guys."

Tara smiled. "Well, we appreciate that."

"I'm a giver." She hopped up. "I need some more water. Do you want anything?"

"No, I'm good." She traced the box opening of the container while Rosita scooted towards the kitchen to fetch a bottle of water, and her eyes fell to the full glass on the table. She didn't know what was with her, but she could say it was a nice surprise.

––

Carol was curled up in bed, listening to Manuel's snoring, and while it normally would have bothered her, it didn't now. It wasn't as though she were sleeping anyway. She was just thinking about this case and the bomber and the bomb and wanting to warn the people she cared about. She couldn't, not like Glenn and Aaron. She had no husband or wife to tell to clear their child out of the city. She only had...well, really no one. Everyone knew who she was close to, and the only person she could tell wasn't really close to her. She didn't know much about him, but she did care about him. And she wanted to talk to him, to warn him, but her lips had to be sealed.

She looked over at Manuel, watching him sleep like the dead, wrapped up in her blanket, probably drooling on her pillow, and she wanted to smile, but her lips wouldn't comply. She was too strained and exhausted, and she couldn't. She just wanted to sleep, but her damn mind wouldn't shut off. She would take sleeping pills if she thought it'd help, but she doubted it. She'd need a good knock on the head. Sadly Manuel was dead to the world, and Tara had yet to come home, so unless she banged her head against the wall, that wasn't happening.

She peeled the blankets off of her, and placed her feet on the floor, standing. She walked out and passed Manuel who was sleeping on the couch, sneaking her way to the kitchen. It was ridiculous that she was sneaking around in her own home, but there she was, a grown woman, tiptoeing through her apartment at two in the morning. She would be embarrassed if she had the capacity for it right now, but luckily she didn't. She could barely remember how to tiptoe at this point, and she was pretty sure she was just crashing around. _Guess Shane was right; once Manuel was out, he was out._ Good for her, bad for him.

She leaned against the counter, the skin her tank top reveal and her panties failed to cover shuddered as cool counter met warm skin, and she plucked her phone off the counter. She was listening to it ring before she registered who she was calling. About two rings in, a grouchy hello came through. Instantly guilt flooded her, and she regretted calling. "I'm so sorry."

"Carol?"

"Yes, it's me. I—I couldn't sleep. I'm sorry. I—You have to work tomorrow, and I'm calling in the middle of the night. I didn't think this through. I just wanted to hear your voice, and i—This could have waited until waking hours." She made to end the call when he chuckled.

"Well, I'm up now, so don't hang up on me."

She blinked. "You sound so tired."

"It's the accent," he lied.

"Daryl."

"What has you up?"

"Work." She tucked her hand under her arm to keep it warm. "Things...are crazy right now, and I can't give any details. It's...private and it's...just so much." She closed her eyes. "There's so much anxiety inside of me, and I can't sleep. I can't really eat or focus on anything else."

"You can't tell me?"

"I can't tell anybody. I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's fine." He sat up and tried to peel open his eyes. "You need anythin'? Anythin' I can offer?"

"Just...talk to me for a bit." She pushed off the counter and paced the kitchen. "I need to think about anything else."

"Okay." His eyes dropped, and he yawned. "I can tell you about a few interestin' jobs I had."

"That sounds great." She stopped pacing and listened as he began to rehash the story. She walked the length of the kitchen while he spoke, finding it easier to breath as he told her a few interesting stories. She wasn't positive she believed some of the tales, but she listened all the same. He was now explaining the details of this massive clot of hair caught in the drain of some woman's sink. She couldn't help but laugh while simultaneously feeling repulsed. Awareness of the dirty bomb flashed in the back of her mind, but it wasn't so blaring now. It wasn't this huge neon sign crushing her. It was now like a safety light, a friendly reminder of something she had to attend to.

"I swear it was the same size as a damn chihuahua. It had weight, Carol." She laughed, covering her mouth to keep the sound from waking Manuel in the next room. "I mean, it's better than some of the other stuff I've found, but not by much."

"Well, I'm glad you lived to tell the tale." She leaned against the counter once more, picking at a stain that couldn't be cleaned no matter how hard she and Tara tried to scrub it off. "Hey...about our date this coming Friday?"

"Hey?"

"Um, I just..." She ducked her head. "I can't wait. I hope this...case blows over before then. It might not." She was going to cancel it. She didn't know how long this case would go on, and she didn't know if she'd make it out alive—if any of them would—and if they did, she'd have to help with the recovery efforts. And after or possibly during those efforts, she would have to track that motherfucker down and make him pay for the damage he'd dealt to this city and to its people. She couldn't rest until he was brought to justice. She wouldn't think twice about Daryl, not until she had this asshole in handcuffs. She knew her squad felt the same way, Manny too, and maybe she should have cancelled. Maybe she should call tomorrow and say she can't make it...

"Are you okay?" he suddenly asked, though she failed to realize she'd been quiet for about five minutes.

"Of course. Why would you ask that?" She couldn't laugh it off, and she rubbed the back of her neck.

"This case you're workin'...it's big, ain't it?"

"I can't talk about it."

"That's a yes." He propped his arm on his upraised knee. "Look, I don't want the details, probably best for both of us if I don't have them, but I know you'll figure it out. All of you and your team. I've read on your cases here and there over the years, and you all appeared dedicated and relentless. You didn't stop till you had this person or those persons. You did what you had to do, and you got it done. I don't know the particulars of this case, but I can tell it's heavy, and it oughta worry me, but it doesn't."

"How can it not?"

"Because I trust you and your team to find this asshole and stop whatever the hell they're doin'. When backed into a corner, there's really only one way to go. You just can't think of it like a trap. I bet you have more information than you know."

She smiled somewhat. "You sound so sure."

"I told you I know most of PPD." He smirked. "Most of you are pretty damn qualified, and it doesn't hurt to...have a little faith. It took me a long time to see that, but I kinda do now."

"You're just trying to make me feel better."

"Is it working?"

She laughed. "Yes."

"Good, 'cause I don't know where I was goin' with that."

She bit her bottom lip. "I appreciate the effort."

"Can you sleep now?"

"Maybe." She glanced at the clock. "I bet you're definitely ready to. God, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. I wanted to see the sunrise." She weakly laughed. "It's okay. I don't sleep too good anyway. That hairball gives me nightmares."

"Maybe I should come over and keep you company then."

"Are you suggesting somethin', Detective?"

"Maybe."

"Tempting, but you got a case. You need to get some sleep. I can't trust in PPD, if you're passed out in your morning coffee." He checked the alarm he had set on the clock beside him and frowned at the number of minutes he had until it went off. "And I can't lay in bed all day. I need that paycheck."

"When you put it like that, I guess I have to let you go."

"Take care of our city, okay?"

"I will."

"Good morning, Carol."

"Good morning, Daryl." She glanced over at the light streaks in the sky. "I'll talk to you in the pm."

"Bring me a muffin in the pm. I'd like that better. I'd get to see you that way."

She smiled. "What kind of muffin?"

"Don't laugh. Cranberry orange."

"Seriously?" She busted out laughing.

"I said don't laugh, and they're really good."

"No, no, that's not why I'm laughing. It's just...I went through a phase where every morning I ate one of those for breakfast." And with lunch. And as dessert. And as a snack. Okay, they were drug for about six months then Tara and Rosita stopped her from becoming a full blown muffin addict and turned her into a coffee addict instead. It did help balance her weight. She had energy to actually go the gym.

"I don't blame you. They're good."

"I'll have to avoid touching it or smelling it, but sure. I'll try and come see you tomorrow. If not then, I'll see you the day after." Bomb or no bomb, she needed to eat, and if they were as stuck today as they had been yesterday then she would have time. Time away might actually produce some new answers, if not a new angle to come at this case from. People happened to miss the most blatant of details, because they couldn't step away and view the big picture. They were all choking on the bomb detail when there were others. The riddles Willie had left for them. Confusing as they were, they were vital. They were all they had.

"All right."

"Bye."

"Bye."

She gripped her phone tightly in her palm and inhaled, clearing the mess in her mind. She had a case to solve, a criminal to throw in prison and a bomb to disarm. There was no time for second guessing. It wasn't just her alone. She stood beside seven others, beside every cop in Philly, and they would protect their city and each other. As always.

She released the breath she'd been holding and scurried back to her bedroom, running smack into Manuel on the way, and she tripped backwards. "Whoa." She sent him a glare. "How long have you been awake?"

"A couple minutes." He yawned. "I heard you talking. I thought it was to Tara."

"No, she hasn't come home." She ran a hand over her hair. "Why are you up?"

"I couldn't really sleep."

"You could've fooled me."

"I took a pill to help me sleep." He plopped down on the couch. "So, was that your boyfriend?"

"It's none of your business."

"I know it's not, but I'm curious." He peeked at her. "I won't tell Shane. Scouts honor."

"You were never a scout." She sat beside him on the couch. "And I don't care what you tell Shane. This isn't high school. We're over. I've come to terms with that. He's likely moved on, and good for him."

"Eh."

"What's eh?" She studied him, seeing the answer those in torn eyes, and she stood up, shaking her head. "On second thought, don't tell me. I'm going to bed. I only have about forty five minutes, but it's good enough for me. Good night. Don't tell me eh and sleep well." She closed her bedroom and leaned against it, exhaling heavily as her heart pounded in her chest. It wasn't from excitement. It was from fear. A new angle she hadn't seen, because she was stuck on the details.

She held the doorknob in both hands and leaned forward, bending her knees to ease her landing, and she released the knob, falling to the floor. "Fuck." She shook her head and slapped a hand on her face. It was just one of his pranks. She was sure of it. He was messing with her, because he was pissed at her. He and Shane were buds, and he probably didn't know the whole story. He did after "we" split, not after Shane dumped her. He didn't have the facts, he was pissy, and that was all. Manny could be petty, especially in times of duress. It wasn't real.

She picked herself up and groaned. The jerk. He was so going to get it in the later morning. She plopped down on her bed and rolled slightly to the side, seeing her screen was still unlocked. She had talked to Daryl for four hours. They were barely past the first date, and he invited her over after suffering though a late ass conversation to make her feel better.

The confusion and pangs of agony of what Manuel had said vanish as a light bubbling flitted through her chest, and she grinned. Either he was crazy, or maybe she had something real after all. She didn't dare to hope, but there her heart was, soaring towards that bright, burning pit that could lead to the best feeling or the worst. If she was going to have stock in any hope, it was the hope that this wasn't going to be a fat, wet raspberry in her face.

––

Tara lied on Rosita's bed at six in the morning with her head in the her lap, the feel of her fingers slipping through her hair would have lulled her to sleep had this been a normal night, but it wasn't. They were both wide awake at six in the morning, and nothing seemed to calm their racing minds. Every noise made them jump, and they had dipped into their adrenaline more than once. All they wanted and needed now was to rest for today, but sleep wasn't coming easy. Or at all.

"Do you think the father could be an actual father? Like a priest?" Tara peered up at Rosita, who was zoned out, staring at their reflection in the TV screen.

"No. He would have mentioned a church or robes. He's not very specific, but he's not cruel. He meant a father, someone who has kids."

"That only narrows it down to about...a billion?" She heaved a sigh and muttered to herself, "We have nothing to go on. We have a homeless contact's words, some little girl muttering about 24, but that's probably just the hunger speaking. Maybe it's a tally of all the people who have helped her. Maybe she was guessing how many hours she had until Glenn came back to ask for payment for the meal bar."

"Hmm." She dragged her fingers lazily through Tara's hair.

"Are you awake right now?"

"Yeah, I'm just thinking." She looked down at her. "I don't know what you're going on about, but I do know that we have nothing. I can't even think of what to do next, because...we have nothing."

"You have some plan. It's obviously not a good one, or not one Boss would approve of." She studied her. "You always do."

She smiled sleepily. "Well, there's that, but I'll save it."

"I don't think we can afford for you to." She sat up and looked over her shoulder at her. "If Manny won't let us on his team...then we need one of our own. You need to follow whatever gut instinct you have, Ro."

"Tara—"

"No, I'm serious." She set her hand over hers. "This...case is life or death for a lot of people, and if anyone can solve this, it's you. I know you can do this. You work best outside of the rules. We might have what we need, but if we don't, we need something to fall back on. That's you." She searched her eyes. "So when it's time to head in tomorrow, you do what you need to do, and I'll cover for you."

She smiled. "You don't have to do that."

"If I want to solve this case, yeah I do. I know Manuel means well, but...it's well for him, Carol and Boss. I know him. He doesn't trust easy, and he certainly won't trust us. So we'll work around him. Boss will understand when this is over."

"Okay, but don't get jealous when I crack this case wide open."

"Trust me, I won't get jealous."

"No?"

"Nope, besides if you start to gloat, I know a pretty surefire way to shut you up." She leaned over and kissed her, and Rosita laughed against her lips.

"You did not just say surefire."

"I did."

"I've been with nerds before, but I think you take the cake."

"Shut up."

"Make me. You have a surefire—"

That was the last thing Rosita said the rest of the morning.


	18. Defying Orders

**_A/N: I'm so sorry for the delay. It's been a long hectic month. I'll try to be more consistent with updates._**

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"Hey, cutie." Rosita flashed a bright smile at the clerk. "I need a favor."

"And what's that?" The brown eyed clerk studied her.

"I need to look at your reports."

"I have hundreds." Haley stood up. "You'll have to narrow it down for me."

"Okay. I need reports for this week of October going five years back."

Her brows shot up. "Wow, that's a lot of reports. Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, don't you have better things to do?"

"Not as vital as this. I need this, Haley, so just help me."

"O—okay."

Rosita had made a run for energy drinks and coffee before coming to the Report Control Unit, and now there she was with Haley, the adorable clerk. She was fond of the girl, though she did give off a childlike energy, and Rosita had taken to her like she was a puppy. She had her under her wing, and she looked out for her. All the boys knew if they wanted to try for Haley's number, they had to go through her. That pretty much deterred them. Mostly because she'd slept with a few of them, and she knew they were scum, and the decent guys were scared of her. That was her own fault, but if they couldn't face their fear and talk to her, how in hell were they going to date Haley?

"If you need a rest, let me know." Rosita moved to the next box. It was fall 2016. There were five more boxes with that label for the Badlands alone. God, she needed help. Or a miracle. That would be greatly appreciated.

"Why are you looking through these? Is it for a case?" She was lending a hand since it'd been a slow day thus far. It would all go to hell when Halloween rolled around in eight days. Or before then. Crime was weird. It slept some days and raged others.

"I can't tell you."

"Okay." She crossed her legs. "Do you even know what you're looking for?"

Honestly, no. She had no clue what she was looking for. Every file she opened could be soaking with this person's motivation, but she wouldn't know that. She was just flying blind, possibly wasting what could be her last few hours on this earth in a small office getting paper cuts. She didn't know what day or what event ruined this man's life. It would be anything, ranging from the lowest of car crashes to a shoot out. Hell, for all she knew, it could have been arson or rape. All she knew was it involved a child. A little girl or little boy who might have lost their lives or their innocence sometime in this week of October. She had no leads, no new information, and she was bending the rules for her own selfish reasons. If Boss were here, she'd been in for an awful scorn. She might still be if she found nothing and half the city blew up while she was messing around.

"I'll know when I find it." Her eyes fell to her phone laying on the floor beside her. Or she'd know when Tara called and gave her more clues. God, she hoped that was sooner rather than later, because she had already come to the bottle of barrel, and there was nothing left to scrape.

––

Manuel divided them all up again—Glenn, Aaron and Tara, his people, and Carol with him. Tara could see Carol was visibly disappointed by his decision, but she went along with it. She offered Tara a smile and her usual coffee to say things between them were good. Tara smiled back and accepted the coffee, catching her arm and pulling her away.

Carol blinked and found herself in the interview room, and she turned as Tara closed the door. "What's going on?"

"I just wanted to talk to you." She met her eyes. "Without the boys right there."

"What's up?" She studied her. "Is it about the case? Or why Rosita's hitting up Haley?"

"You... Of course you know about that."

"Boss told me." She smiled a little. "He's keeping tabs on her progress, told Manuel she's out chasing a lead for him."

"Go Boss." She brought the cup up to her lips and drank from it. "And thanks for the coffee. Rosita didn't make any, and I think the office coffee would only make me want the bomb to go off in our office just so I don't have to taste it anymore."

She chuckled lightly and pushed curl bunch out of her face. "Look, I have to catch up to Manuel before he gets halfway to the location and realizes I'm not there. We can talk more later."

"Hey..." She lowered her gaze. "Carol, I'm so sorry about the stuff I said about you and Manuel. It wasn't right, and it wasn't my place to say it. It's okay for you to have secrets. I...have secrets too. I was a real bitch to you, and it wasn't your fault. You didn't even earn it. I can't entirely blame the bomb, but if you let me then I'll let it take partial blame."

"Okay, but only partial." She smirked.

She smiled and lifted her head. "You know you're my best friend, right?"

"We're not best friends." Carol reached for the handle to the door. "Sorry, Tara, but...you're stuck me. We're sisters, kind of always have been."

She grinned. "Get out of here, you corny dork."

She wagged a finger at her. "Behave."

Then she disappeared out the door, and Tara was left chuckling softly to herself. She shook her head and drank from the cup, leaving the interview room to find the boys still at their desks, not across town chasing Manuel's leads. She cocked her head to the side curiously and scooted over to see what was up. She had plans to drive and catch up to them, but they were hanging back?

"We're supposed to be out," Tara called to them, "busting down doors and asking useless questions."

"Not to be rude," Glenn was the one who speak first, "but screw him. I'm not going to hit the streets to find nothing. I'm going to pool together what we already know to try and figure this out. I'm good at stuff like this. What Mannny has us doing is wasting our talents, but he's too busy jumping up his own ass to see that."

Tara blinked, stunned at this new side of Glenn. She was used to frustrated Glenn, who got pissed at unwilling suspects/witnesses and clues right in front of him he couldn't quite snuff out. But this Glenn? Pissed at a higher ups' orders? Totally new to her, but he was generating a very assertive, determined, dedicated air towards the shield, this family and this city—she loved it.

"We know this person is following us since we've kept news of this case hush hush," Glenn began to state what he knew as facts. "We know they're just toying with us, hence the call with the voice inverter, but clearly the heart of their reason is crucial. The father, the debt, 24—I think it's tied to us."

"What? Us as people?" Aaron inquired then a moment later uttered, "More likely us as cops."

"Could be both. I don't know yet." He spun his chair to the side and hopped up, planting his feet in front of the white board that held a map of the city and the words father and debt with a question mark. Today was about answering those questions. He lifted the dry erase marker and wrote in twenty four with a question mark, and he inhaled deep to ready himself. It was going to be a long day of digging and rule breaking, but this—his—insubordination would provide fruitful results.

"So," Tara moved behind Glenn, hands on her hips, "where do we start?"

He turned to face her and found Aaron beside her. "We?"

"Did you really think you were on your own with this?" Aaron smirked at his partner.

"I was gonna ask you guys to help me," he sheepishly admitted. "We're...breaking rank here, guys. Between Manuel's rank and the risks of us being wrong—"

"Then we won't be wrong. We'll look over all the angles and find one that fits." Tara moved her eyes to the white board. "Besides we have an ace in the hole."

"Care to share that ace?" Aaron collected the tablet to review his notes.

"Maybe later." She turned to them. "For now, Glenn's in charge, so what do we do?"

He glanced from Tara to Aaron and nodded. "First we need to narrow down the year of the attack."

"How do we do that?"

He bit his lip and confessed, "We look up incident reports that occurred within this week...here."

"Here? Like...headquaters here?" Aaron's brows shot up.

"Yes, exactly."

"Why do you think this person is targeting us?" Tara tapped her finger on her coffee and drank it.

"Again, the phone call. They only contacted us, and nobody reported a bomb call. They might keep it under the radar, but it would have gotten out." He moistened his lips. "I just...have a strong gut feeling we're the target. So, Tara, I want you to look over every hostage situation, every shoot out, every kidnapping, everything you can think of involving a child's death that may have happened here."

"You got it."

"Good. Thanks." His gaze moved to his partner. "I need you to help me try and find that little girl again. The one I gave a candy bar. I told you about her."

"You did, but why?"

"Because I need her to confirm or deny something." That something being the possibility that today might be the last day on earth for the people who work in and around this building. Today was the twenty-fourth, the same date the girl had given them. Either it was a coincidence, or the clock was ticking nearby just out of ear's reach and eye's sight.

– – –

"She's insubordinate."

"No, she's not." Carol continue to argue with Manuel about Rosita's absence from the office today. She pushed Boss's request, but Manuel didn't make it to where he was on looks alone. There was a brain under there. "Look, we have our own troubles to worry about. Let Rosita do whatever the hell Boss has her doing, and we'll do what we came here for."

"Why are we here?" He gestured to the bakery in front of them. "I said I wanted to grab a bite, but...I meant something of substance, not...sugar."

"It's not for you, and we're still waiting for the call." She hopped out of the car and entered the bakery alone, ordering a few items for the team and herself. She knew there were more important things she could be doing, but honestly the only lead they had was still in process of being...well, found. She had hints and whispers, and she'd have a definite answer within the half hour. She just had to kill time until she got what she needed.

Sadly once she had that information she would piss Rosita off royally. It had to be done, however. Without Wilson, they had next to nothing, and they couldn't afford to have next to nothing on a case like this. She would ask for forgiveness when they weren't in the afterlife, charred and annoyed with each other. He was a key witness—hell, he was their only witness—and he had to be interviewed again. They wouldn't bring him into the station, as Carol wouldn't go behind her friend's back and traumatize the man all at once, but they would talk to him out here. She would ensure it was kept clean. Anything could happen with a lack of cameras and eyes to watch them, so she would keep to her training and dig out answers as best as she could without pressuring him.

"Thank you." Carol paid for her order and accepted the bag with a smile.

"I thought we talked about cranberry orange muffins." Manuel leaned against the wall behind her.

"It's not for me." She walked out of the building and set the bag in the backseat, feeling her phone vibrating in her pocket. "But this is."

Manuel hurried over and practically hugged her to listen to the conversation, and Carol had to put it on speaker phone. She did enjoy the heat his body provided, but she wouldn't enjoy smelling like him when she went to see Daryl. Besides there had to be boundaries. She didn't want anyone else to think she and Manny had slept together in the past. That was one part of their relationship they would never explore.

He smirked when the caller hung up. "Good work, Peletier. Let's go question our witness."

About twenty minutes later they were pulling over in a shady part of town. It wasn't as shady and hostile as the Badlands, but it was pretty close. She wouldn't want to be caught here after dark as a civilian. Luckily she was a cop and knew how to handle herself. She didn't have to worry about much, but for every other man and woman who came down this way? Poor fools.

"Stay close to me." Manuel exited the car first.

"I'm not a child you need to protect." She followed after him, catching up him.

"If Daryl comes at me with a fist, because you got a scratch, I'm going to blame it on you while I run away. Unless he's not a big guy. Is he?"

"Don't you wish you knew?"

"You'd seriously let me be hit?"

"For being an ass and not accepting my team? Maybe."

"Oh..." He sighed. "I never made any promises."

"Clearly."

"Don't be mad."

"Mad isn't the word for it." Disappointed, exasperated, unsurprised were slightly closer to the emotions she felt when he called on simply her once again. "But we're at work, so let's just work."

"It's your lead, so...lead on."

They shuffled on in silence until they came to the alley Carol's informant had seen Willie sulking in, and she picked up her pace. She felt the need to rush. They had spent so much time working on this case, and with the bomb already armed, she felt she'd been moving slow enough. They needed answers, a doer, a location—they needed so much, and they had so little. This had to be the last push. They had to figure this out with whatever Wilson was about to tell them.

"He has to be here." Carol strolled down the alley, her teeth clenching at the lack of any movement or people. "Honestly, I would have brought Tara, but she and Rosita are too close. I don't want the backlash of her...finding out what I did, not right now. She can be pissed at me later when the city isn't in danger."

"I get it. Relationships are complicated."

"Tell me about it."

He gave her an off look then chuckled. "So, you _don't_ know."

"Know what?" She glanced at him.

"Hey, if you don't know, you ain't gonna find out from me. It isn't my business. I think my nose is dirty enough, don't you?"

"Oh, now you wanna be hush hush?" Her emotions from earlier flared back up at that, and she sent him a sharp scowl. "Yet you didn't last night about Shane."

"I didn't say anything!"

"You said enough." She stomped her foot and seethed at him. "I was perfectly fine until you opened your big mouth. I've been through every pathetic option in the last three months to try and figure out why, and I've felt every ounce of desperate hope that maybe it wasn't me, it was him, and we could try again when he was ready. I've gone through all of it! Every fucking scene, I've played it in my head, and I forced it all away until it was gone. I met someone, and now...here you are, telling me how raw he was, how hurt, how maybe...maybe there's a side to this I don't know and should consider."

"No, no, that's not what I'm trying to do."

"It sure seems that way to me."

"I just..." He shifted his weight and helplessly huffed. "I'm in the middle, and I hate it, okay? You are my dear friend, and he's my best friend. I wasn't around much when you two got together, but I talked to him all the time. He was so elated to be with you, and to have your future together, so I don't...know how I feel about that being gone."

"You don't know how you feel?" she erupted. "I was with him! I was in love with him wholeheartedly! He—We were making plans to get married and have children. We hadn't set anything in stone, but it was there. I thought I had it all figured out—my life, my career, my future! Then one day he comes to my apartment and tells me it's over without any explanation. I thought I was pregnant, Manny. I thought...this was the start of the next part of our relationship. I thought so many things, and they all came crashing down." Her throat was sore, her voice shuddered and faltered as she spat out the last of them, and her chest rose and fell rapidly in time with her pounding heart.

"And you act like it was my fault! I didn't make him run off. I didn't end it with him, not when I loved him as much as I did, not when I wanted so much with him! He was the only person in the entire world I have shared everything with! He was my rock for the longest time, and I didn't just wake up and say fuck it. He did. I think you need to remember that."

"I didn't mean to imply that my feelings on the matter meant more than yours." He met her eyes. "I know it doesn't matter, but...you two were the most stable thing in my life, and that's gone now. I don't have anybody, not...since things ended with my partner."

She frowned. "I—I didn't know you were with anybody."

"Yeah, I was. We were together almost two years, and it ended with a betrayal and a transfer." He dragged a hand through my hair. "See, I thought if anybody would make it...it'd be you two, but surprise, surprise. You two cracked, and the love of my live cheated on me, so I'm alone now. I don't even get to see you anymore, and the only time I see Shane is in dark allies, and that's all work."

"I'm so sorry."

"I don't want to talk to talk about it." He pushed by her. "We have a job to do, so let's just do it."

"Manuel—"

"Let's just work, Peletier." He didn't look back at her.

They continued onward through the alley in silence, he walked a few paces ahead, and Carol didn't mind. She needed physical space too. He was an asshole, and Carol didn't regret her outburst. He needed to know the details, even if he already knew Shane's side. Her side was just as valid. She couldn't believe he'd said that to her. Yes, he was struggling too, and he needed something to hold onto, but she and Shane didn't ask to be that something. She knew his parents were divorced and had passed on years ago, so he didn't have either of them to look to, but he really shouldn't have picked them. Rosita was right. They weren't a perfect couple. Their flaws didn't make them stronger, if anything it just poked holes in what they had.

She scrutinized his back. She understood what he was going through. She'd been cheated on too before, and it fucked her up for a long time. Even sometimes with Shane, if he lingered on someone...those thoughts and feelings would seep into her mind and wrap around her heart. His words could only do so much, and Manuel was already a sensitive guy. It would stay with him for a good while, lurking in the back of his mind whenever he entered a new relationship. He held onto things like this, but she knew he would overcome it. He was a strong person, and once the pain settled and the doubt...shrank, he'd come out stronger for it. That was just the person he was. She admired him for it and sometimes envied him for it.

She didn't care how Shane felt about her. He had broken up with her and given no explanation to anybody apparently. She couldn't believe him, or his nerve. He just showed up out of the blue at Manny's, and what the hell was raw exactly? He didn't cry or even tear up when he said those words to her. He didn't hesitate or look unsure. His voice didn't break. He didn't falter. He did what he came to do, and he stomped out of there. If there were any emotions he was hinging on, it had nothing to do with their breakup, so whatever raw man Manuel found on his doorstep wasn't her Shane. It was whoever the hell he was when he came over and broke up with her. Hell, perhaps that was who he was the entire time, and she just never knew it.

Her hands balled into fists, but she couldn't summon the anger her words hissed at her. She knew it wasn't true. She could be as pissed as all hell, or as enraged and as loud as those words were as they echoed in her mind, but the bite just wasn't here. He was a gentle man, very sweet and sometimes overly possessive, but given her doubts and self-consciousness, it was nice now and then. He knew when the draw the line, and he never stepped over it. And if he did, he found a way to make it right and better himself. She loved that about him, sometimes softly praised him for it. He would get embarrassed, that cocky exterior melting away, and the man beneath stealing even more of her heart with those scarlet cheeks and unfinished sentences.

Her heart ached, but it wasn't as intense as it once was. She inhaled and thought of the new man in her life, a smile casting away the ache. While her memories with Shane were plenty, they were now only memories. She would make many more with Daryl, and they would be filled with new and lively things. It wouldn't always be cop talk, and that was something she was looking forward to. She would get to his world through his words, not see her world through Shane's world. She wondered what the world of a carpenter/plumber/younger brother was going to be like.

Her eyes fell on Manuel before she went off daydreaming, and it brought her screeching back down to earth. They had a goal here, a witness to locate, and she had drinks to purchase with him later. He was so rigid right now, every inch of his body reeked of _Do Not Talk To Me_ , and she could only imagine the pissed off look etched into his face. She didn't know how poorly things had ended, but given the transfer and betrayal, she could assume it was a massive heartache. She couldn't wish him well, he wouldn't want it, but she could stand by him. In the end it was all she could do, and what all her friends had done for her: stood by her through the worst of it and the better of it, dealing out hard truths and much needed ice cream pints. Though Manny's trainer wouldn't agree with that last one, she could still do the rest. She may not know who he was dating, but she knew him. She could cheer him up. She wanted to. A grumpy Taylor was even less of a team player than happy Taylor.

Their footsteps bounced off the walls as they slipped further into the darkness, Taylor slowed his pace so the space between him and Carol shrank, and eventually she was by his side once more. They didn't speak or acknowledge each other, but they moved and breathed and listened as one. Partners. She knew him, and he her. They would find Willie, and they would get the answers they needed to save this beloved city, and the only thing this creep would see for the rest of his life were the walls to his cell.

Manuel stopped at the movement and bolted off towards it, Carol blinked and hurried to catch up to him, and they saw someone in a ratty duster scurrying off towards an empty warehouse. They dodged and weaved through the mess left behind inside the warehouse, Manuel grunted and put his gym routine to work, and Carol was pretty sure she was only getting slower as they continued on. She really needed to hit the gym more!

"Stop!" Manuel shouted.

"Philly PD!"

The person stopped at Carol's voice and turned, Carol found the familiar face of Willie and smiled as she dropped, catching her knees to keep her on her feet, panting. Manuel, who didn't appear to even be winded, approached the man.

"Why're you running?" He narrowed his eyes.

"Someone comes at you in a dark alley, you run," Willie replied. "At least in my part of town you do."

"This ain't the Badlands."

"You can take the man out of the Badlands, but old habits die hard."

"Cute." Manuel stepped towards him. "Tell me what you know about this "dirty" bomb."

"I—I—"

"Don't stammer now. Rosita told us everything, and I want you to think real hard and tell me even more."

"There's nothin—"

"Don't bullshit with me, Willie." Carol lifted her head at the shift in tone, and Manuel stepped even closer to the man. "Who is the father? What's the debt? Hmm?"

"I don't know who he is. I told Rosea all I know."

Carol smiled a small smile. Her undercover name, barely different from her real name. Carol believed it was what her grandmother called her. Her beautiful Rosea. "It's okay, Wilson." She drew near. "You can tell us. We'll put him behind bars, and he won't be able to make good on any threats he dealt out. Nobody will touch you."

He shook his head. "It ain't threats I'm worried about."

"We'll keep you safe no matter what." Her smile grew compassionate and showed no trace of lies. "But we have to know. It's imperative. If you love this city as much as I do, we need to know. A lot of people are going to die if you don't talk to us, so please. Please, don't bloody your hands, because of fear."

"I don't know no more," he confessed. "I'm sorry. I don't."

She studied him closely, seeing the truth in those world-worn eyes, and she nodded. "Okay, but we still need to take you in." She didn't want to, but maybe if she...threatened, he'd spill one tiny but ultimately necessary detail.

He lowered his eyes. "You need to? Or you just want to?"

"What we need," Manuel interrupted Carol's gentle response to the man, "is for you to fucking tell us the truth. You know more. You're nothing out here. You're not even a speck of dirt to these people. They have no reason to hide anything from you. You're no more than another trash can on the side of the road! You had to have overheard more! You had to have!"

Carol gaped at the man beside her. "Manny, stop." Her voice was low and not at all commanding, just a friendly plea. "He doesn't know anything."

"That's bullshit!" He grabbed Wilson by the collar of his shirt and shouted in his face. "Tell us what you know! People are going to die! Little kids! Innocent men and women will be caught in this asshole's vendetta! Do you want that?! Do you?!"

"Stop. Let him go." Carol didn't want to use force just yet, but she would if he made her. "Let him go."

"Not until he stops fuckin' around. He knows. He has to know. Lowlifes like him know everything. You have nothing else to live for but to be an informant. If you don't provide...you might as well crawl into the garbage and cease to exist. So tell me what I need to know. It's real simple, Willie. Real goddamn simple: the father, the debt. Who? When? Where and why?"

Carol couldn't believe what she was seeing, those once laughing and happy hazel eyes were like the arctic, a glacial ice hardened over them, and she was looking into jet black coals. She didn't want to hurt him, but if he kept this up, he was going to hurt Wilson and for no good reason. The man had no answers to provide. He'd done and said all he could, and Manny was just being an unnecessary asshole to him. She wouldn't stand here and let him bully the witness.

"Enough." Carol got into his personal space. "Let him go. We're leaving."

"Back off, Peletier!" He barely shoved her, but it was enough to send her stumbling backwards and smack against the wall. She hadn't expected him to do that, and she hadn't planted her footing, so she was met with a cold brick wall. "Talk, you prick!" He shook Willie, who was now shaking his head, quivering.

"I—I don't know nothin'! I swear! Everybody uses nicknames. Nobody is who they say they are. I don't know their code. The father, the debt—all their code, not mine. I just hear. I just hear." He was pleading with every word without saying "let me go, please let me go". It was clinging to every word. "Like you said, I—I'm nothin'! Why—why talk in front of nothin'? Please, I just heard that. I only heard that."

"Nicknames? Codes? It sounds like you know a lot more." He threw him to the ground and pulled his gun on him. "So talk. Who did you hear this from? What's his nickname?"

Willie shouted in fear, using his feet to scramble backwards away from the crazed detective, and he shielded his face. "I don't know! I don't know!"

"Manuel!" Carol pushed off the wall. "Stop it!" She moved in between him and Willie. If this dick was going to shoot anybody, he'd have to go through her first. If any of the man she knew was in there, he wouldn't. Though given this display, she wasn't sure she knew this man at all. "Now, damn it!"

His eyes burned, and he let out a growl. "He knows more."

"He doesn't!" She shouted, and at his movement, drew her own gun. "I swear to God, Taylor, if you don't stop, I'll stop you! Put the gun down and back off!"

"Get out of my way. We have no fucking clue when this bomb's gonna blow, and he's the only lead we have. Move. I won't let this city turn into an ashtray if I can help it. I don't want to hurt you."

"You already have." She glanced back at Wilson, who was shaking and sobbing, and she saw he'd even soiled himself. She grit her teeth and turned back to Taylor. "Get out of here, Manuel."

For some reason the mention of his name made him flinch, he watched Carol holster her gun and drop down beside the older man. She set a hand on his shoulder to comfort him, pulling out her phone to call someone, and he lowered his weapon, scoffing and storming off, though even if he hadn't, she would have made him.

"It's okay." She found his hand and held it tightly. "He won't hurt you." She cast a glance to Manuel's fading figure, hearing Tara pick up on the other line. "I need you to come and pick me up.

"I thought you and Manny were following a lead."

"We were, but I need you."

"Okay." She didn't even pause. "Where are you?"

She told her where she was and asked her to bring a blanket to cover the backseat with. She remained by his side the entire time, and Tara aided her in guiding him to the car. Carol assured him they weren't going to the station, and she told Tara to take her to a motel they used to hold witnesses in for protection. Carol got him a room and showed him to it, leaving Tara in the car to piece together what had happened.

"Here are some clothes." She set them on the end. They belonged to Shane, but they would fit him just fine. "Take a shower, eat, rest. Just relax."

He eyed her. "Why?"

"There's nothing I want from you. I'm so sorry about Agent Taylor's behavior. He will be reported for that, I assure you. He'll be properly penalized for it." She met his eyes. "It won't happen again."

"A corrupt agent, right. It never happens twice." He scoffed. "They're like weeds... you'll never be rid of them entirely."

"I'm so sorry. I didn't..."

"It wasn't on you, girl." He studied her. "Rosea told me about you, the weepy one."

She frowned. "Weepy?"

He nodded. "Heartbroken."

"Oh." She lost her frown. "I guess I was."

"You have a good heart. It'll...make you supremely happy, make you proud, but the agony that good heart of yours holds...and what it will hold...is just as much." He bobbed his head, but she wasn't sure if it was for confirmation or just to do it. "Don't worry though. He'll take care of you."

"Taylor?" Her brows knitted together.

"The wood worker." A knowing smile.

"How do you...?"

"I heard a lot from my corner, and his brother...well, let's just say I know the plumber pretty well." He looked over himself. "I'm a mess. If you'll excuse me."

"Willie, I—"

"You'll have enough to blame yourself for, so don't add this to the list." He stood outside the bathroom door. "Let it go. It don't do you any good."

She could only nod.

"And while I don't know anythin' about the father or the men who was talkin' around me, I do know that...you were affected by that day too." His eyes moved down from her eyes, lingering on her body before falling to the floor. "Tell Rosea...twenty-four."

Carol gasped sharply, one hand falling to her stomach, the other covering her mouth, and she stumbled out of the room. She spun around and shook her head, feeling a burning in the back of her eyes. Twenty-four? She was affected too? Oh, God. Oh, God.

"Carol." Tara jogged over and grasped her elbows. "Hey, hey, look at me. Focus on me."

"Tara—" she wheezed.

"Don't get overwhelmed. It's all right. We'll get it sorted. We'll join Rosita, and we'll get the job done. Good guys always win, right?" She squeezed her elbows. "Breathe, Peletier, you're turning blue on me."

She inhaled sharply once more and shot out the air. "Tara, I—I know when the bomb's set to blow."

Her eyes widened. "What?"

"Twenty-four," she continued, eyes closing as she spoke once more. "October twenty-fourth...today. At two forty-five."

– – –

"Today?" Rosita repeated on the phone with Glenn, hearing the orders of the bomb squad through the phone. "At headquaters? Are you sure?"

"Carol seems sure. She followed a lead, and this is what they told her." He didn't want to mention what happened with Willie just yet. "She knows where too, but we haven't found any trace of a bomb."

"How can she be so sure?"

"She just is, and I agree with her. It makes sense we're the target."

"How? You remember the day just as well as I do. We were the victims, not the perpetrators."

"It might appear that way to us, but...to him? We were just as much to blame."

––

 _It was surprisingly sunny for such a cold day in October, the team had just closed a major case, and it was time to celebrate. Rosita was buying a round of drinks for the team once once all the paperwork was squared away, and for now Tara was buying the group some hot dogs from the vender outside. It wasn't quiet the celebratory meal they had in mind, but it would do until they were able to go out and cut loose._

 _A family had taken over their usual lunch spot, a little girl hopping up and down the steps while he and his wife sat on the bench with their little boy kicking a ball. Another couple and their infant were grabbing coffee to go, and Rosita just about cringed at all the cute fluffiness from the parents around them. Things she had to remind herself she couldn't have, even if one day she could._

" _I think you're too excited about this." Carol bit into her hot dog, and Tara handed her napkin to wipe ketchup off her chin._

" _We haven't gone out in months." She dropped onto the nearby bench with pursed lips that broke into a grin. "Of course I'm excited."_

" _What if we already have plans?" Aaron rejected the hot dog and settled for a soft pretzel instead._

" _Bring your boyfriend along. I don't mind."_

" _And if I don't want to spend the evening in some dingy club, being grinded against by strangers?"_

" _Aaron, we just put away a serial killer. We have to celebrate that. It's in the rules."_

" _What rules?" Glenn sat beside. "Yours? 'Cause my rules say I need a nap." They'd been working for two days straight after hitting a plethora of solid information on their killer, and they broke the case before they could get any shuteye. Good for the victim, bad for the cops. He stifled a yawn._

" _Well, my rules say we need a drink. You can nap when you're dead."_

 _He shook his head and drank his lunch of coffee._

" _Hey." Shane crossed the street and joined them, greeting Carol with a kiss and pulling her against him and keeping her there. "I heard the news. Congratulations."_

" _Word spreads fast." Tara finished off her hot dog and tossed the trash, repressing a groan Carol fed Shane part of hers. It was cute, but she saw it all the time at home, and she didn't need it to follow her to work too._

" _Or he just wanted to see Carol and heard us talking," Glenn teased._

" _Any excuse is excuse enough." He smirked and kissed her cheek. "So, what are the plans?"_

" _Drinking, shots, dancing." Rosita grinned at him. "You in?"_

" _Was that ever in question?"_

 _Carol shook her head at them, resting her temple on his chest, and she couldn't help but smile. She watched them all interact, and her heart was full of love and warmth from it. She never had a family of her own until now, and it was perfect. She wanted to bottle this moment up forever. She couldn't imagine a future where they weren't like this. They weren't all together and poking at each other and laughing and getting on each other's nerves. It made all the negative years of her life worth it to see and experience moments like these._

" _You're crazy if you think I'm doing those shots again. They were too strong, and we have to be here tomorrow bright and early for some mandatory meeting." Tara shook her head profusely as Rosita just smiled and arched her brow. "No, don't look at me like that."_

" _You and I are going to do those shots again since Carol's all soft stomach today, and Aaron has a big anniversary dinner tomorrow."_

" _What about me?" Glenn waved his hand. "I could do them too."_

" _And Glenn's a lightweight," she added, turning to Tara. "Come on, we have to. It's tradition."_

" _How can it be a tradition? They only just came up with them!"_

" _Well, it was the first time we went to that club, so it's our new tradition."_

" _Oh, my God. Where is logic and how do I get it back?" She was laughing through, and Rosita hoped that meant she won the argument. "Fine, but if I start dancing on the bar, you better get your ass up there too."_

" _Please, I'll be dragging you up there to dance with me."_

" _And I'll be recording it to blackmail you two with later." Shane waggled his brows, rubbing Carol's back when she shuddered at the cold breeze._

" _And I guess I'll make sure it stays PG." Glenn stole a piece of Aaron's lunch and decided to get one of his own later. Maybe with a cream cheese dipping sauce. Or hot mustard. Hmm. Decisions, decisions._

" _I guess Carol and I will just have to take over the dance floor," Aaron mused. "We're the hotter couple anyway. It's the curls."_

" _You mean barf all over the dance floor," Carol murmured._

" _Barf?" Shane frowned. "What happened? You're sick?"_

" _Why? Are you going to flee the scene if I am?"_

" _No, but I'll take some vitamins so I don't get sick. I can't help you feel better if I'm out with the same thing."_

 _Tara moved away from the pair. "If you get me sick, I'll kick you both out of my apartment."_

" _Hey, it's our apartment," Carol corrected, "and I'm not sick. I don't have a fever."_

" _Eric was sick a couple days ago," Glenn told her. "You might have caught it from him."_

 _She rolled her eyes and stopped trying to fight their assumptions of her being sick. "Then I'll stay home and stew in my sickness."_

" _With this cold, I'm tempted to join you." Aaron shivered at nippy air blowing at his neck. "I have a strong immune system, and as long as you tip, I'm a great cuddler."_

 _She giggled. "Shut up."_

" _At least you laughed." He smiled, proud of his accomplishment. "She's been miserable all day. We all have been, but she and Glenn have been especially miserable."_

" _We haven't slept in forty-eight hours," Glenn complained. "Sue us."_

" _I just might."_

" _Hey, keep it light." Boss joined his squad. "And get some rest. You've worked yourselves to the bone, and the paperwork can wait. It's mostly dotting i's and crossing t's at this point. Go home and rest and celebrate, but you better come in bright eyed and bushy-tailed for tomorrow."_

" _Do you actually mean that?" Glenn flew off the bench. "We can go home?"_

 _He chuckled at the excitement in the young man's eyes and nodded. "Yes, you can go home—all of you."_

" _I love you, Boss." Glenn hugged him and stepped back. "Goodbye, suckers."_

" _Yeah, we love you too." Rosita jumped and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. "Where's my hug?"_

" _Let me go. I need to sleep."_

" _Nope." She laughed as he whined, and she was about to let him go when a woman screamed. She promptly released him and scanned the area, all of them did, and they found one of their own standing by the doorway to headquaters. She didn't why that was worthy of a scream until her eyes fell to the semi-automatic in his hand and suddenly he began to fire._

 _She dropped to the ground with Glenn, Boss and Aaron reached for their weapons, Tara slid off the bench instantly to duck down and try to take out his leg, but it had suddenly become a bloodbath in a matter of mere seconds. People were scattering, people were bleeding, people were dead. They was so much screaming and crying, so much chaos._

 _Aaron dropped to the ground with a bullet to the leg, Shane instantly moved to protect him as well, pulling him behind the vender's cart where he'd moved himself and Carol the moment he saw the weapon, and Carol found Tara from behind the cart, their eyes meeting._

 _He was randomly firing at people, and he didn't have any set target. Or so it appeared. He did fire at the cart when he saw Aaron being pulled behind it, but it could be the movement. They couldn't say for sure, but they knew he wasn't one of theirs. He was in the proper attire, but he was no cop. Not anymore. He was an asshole in a costume with a lust for blood, and he had to be stopped._

 _Boss took one to the chest and slumped against the cart before dropping to the ground, Glenn went to his aid immediately, not caring for his neck he was exposing, and Rosita could only remain behind the bench, as her weapon was locked inside. It was fucking lunch. Who the hell was going to expect this? Fuck!_

 _Tara once more aimed for his leg, but he fired directly at her. She shot back blindly, hearing the glass behind him shatter, and then a wave of bullets came. Tara cried out as one grazed her hip, and Rosita slid over and covered the wound, and thankfully so, because had she stayed, she would have been shot in the back. She didn't want to linger on that thought as blood seeped through her fingers, and Tara tried to wriggle away to take him out again._

 _And then as abruptly as the shooting had began...it stopped. It was silent, the drum of the weapon ceased to echo, and the air filled with muffled moans of agony and sobs of torment. They dared peek their heads out to see what became of the shooter, and they found Tara's blind shooting had indeed stuck. Tara and a fellow officer from the inside. That last wave was a defiant roar, but no one can resist death when shot in the chest and then the back of the head._

" _Boss." Glenn's voice broke through the mute blanket that cloaked the area. "Tyreese, hold on."_

" _Ty." Tara grunted and winced, her hand coming to cover Rosita's on her hip. "Call 911."_

 _Rosita slipped her hand free of Tara's and dug her phone out of her pocket to dial the number, looking over at Boss and daring to look around at the victims surrounding them._

 _The couple who had stopped suddenly for coffee were lying on the ground in their blood, their baby nowhere in sight as their spilled coffee met the red liquid. The family of four who were waiting to speak with a detective were no longer a family of four. The mother held her baby boy in her arms as they both wailed at the sight of their husband and daughter dead. He was lying over her, trying to shield her from the bullets, but one got through. One got through, and that was enough. Her life had ended before it even really began._

 _Fellow officers who were either on their way in or out had gotten caught up in the fray as well; some lying wounded while other rushed to aid the civilians who were okay but in shock. The others came out of the building with first aid supplies to try and save the few they could. There was so much blood, the stone itself would be stained red from this, and the air was heavy with grunt and gurgling and cries of searing pain at pressuring be applied to wounds. Not to mention the mourning loved ones._

 _Shane calmed Aaron down and managed to slow the bleeding. He smiled reassuringly at him when he heard the sirens. "Hear that? Help's coming, just breathe." He patted his back. "No blacking out on me. Eric's already gonna come after my ass."_

 _He chuckled stiffly. "You? No, no, he'll be coming for me first."_

" _Yeah." He blinked heard. "So stay awake."_

 _He steadied his raspy breathing. "I...will."_

" _Good." Shane looked over to soak in some support from Carol, but she wasn't there. His first thought was she was tending to Boss, but Glenn was giving commands to a rookie. He wasn't talking to Carol, and Carol wasn't by his side, so...where was Carol? He turned even more, hearing Aaron hiss out air at the swift moment, and his eyes found her._

 _The bullets the shooter had fired at the vender's cart had missed them, but not her. Red seeped through her shirt and her pants, her head to the side as she lied there, unconscious, unmoving. She was dead white against the pavement, and his heart stopped beating._

" _Rosita!"_

" _What?" She dropped her her phone at the tortured cry he made of her name and hurried around the cart, gasping at the sight of Carol. "Oh, my God, no. No, no, no." She went to her side and lifted her head from the ground, trying to find a pulse. "Please, please, please." She searched, her fingers growing cold from drying blood, and she wasn't sure if she was looking for the pulse in the right place or not._

" _Is she okay?" Shane breathlessly whispered. "Is—is she still—?"_

 _Rosita shuddered but was able to nod. "Yeah."_

 _Help arrived five minutes later, the dead were taken care of, the injured hauled off to the nearest hospital for medical attention, and the investigation had began on the shooter. Rosita didn't care about that, not when over half her team was in surgery, and Tara was getting stitches while she and Shane were siting in the waiting room, wearing blood that wasn't their own. The time would come when a burning want to seek out the reason behind this attack, but right now she just had to know her team and Boss were going to make it out alive._

" _Have you heard anything?" Tara wheeled her way over to them._

" _Not yet." Rosita watched as Shane sat silently beside her, eyes glued to the door where he was told he couldn't follow Carol, and she didn't try to console him. There was no point. He didn't want it, and her words were hollow and could be lies. She didn't have it in her to lie to anybody right now._

" _Aaron will pull through." Tara rested her hands in her lap. "Boss... He's too stubborn to die. He'll probably scold the bullet out of his chest, and Carol... She's survived a lot worse than this bullet."_

" _She has," Shane softly agreed, "but a bullet is still a bullet."_

 _Tara lowered her eyes to the floor. "So much for looking on the bright side."_

" _The bright side is bullshit." Teary eyes moved their way. "I don't want false hope and the bright side. I just want her to be okay. I want Tyreese to be okay, and Aaron."_

" _They will be."_

" _Where's the proof of that?" He shook his head and gestured to his and Rosita's clothing. ""Cause here's the proof of them not being okay."_

 _Shane didn't talk anymore after that, nor did Tara. They spent the next couple of hours in mutual silence, pacing and sitting, sitting and asking to know information, pacing and checking the clock. Rosita had tried to get coffee, but she kept seeing that couple soaked in blood and coffee, and she couldn't. She should be relieved that the baby survived, that his parents had made the perfect wall of safety around him, but he was all alone now. And nobody could tell him why he was all alone, perhaps not even when he came asking one day._

" _Shane Walsh?"_

" _Dr. Subramanian." He was on his feet in a flash. "Is she okay? Is he all right? Uh, Boss—er, Tyreese Williams and Aaron—"_

" _Calm down. I'm only here about Ms. Peletier. You're her emergency contact. And Tara Chambler?"_

" _Yeah." She pushed the wheelchair over to him. "Is she all right?"_

" _She's out of surgery. She's lucky. The bullet didn't do much damage, but she'll be a strict diet plan and the recovery will be strenuous." He looked so saddened. "Such an awful tragedy. Violence for violence's sake."_

" _I just want to see her. Could we see her?" Shane pleaded._

" _She's awake, but...be easy on her. She's...been through a lot."_

" _When will we know more about Tyreese and Aaron?" Rosita inquired from behind Shane and Tara._

" _You didn't hear?" He held the clipboard to his chest. "Aaron's been out of surgery for an hour. He's with his partner now. I thought... She must have been bull-rushed by Eric. You can go and see him now, if you'd like."_

" _And Boss?" Tara dared to ask._

" _I don't know, but...you're in for a long night." He left them with that._

" _I'm going to see her. Tell Aaron I'll be by in an hour or two." Shane checked with the nurse for Carol's room number and hurried off in that direction._

" _Wanna go see Aaron?" Rosita grasped the handle to Tara's wheelchair._

" _I want to know Boss will be okay." She reached up and clasped Rosita's hand._

 _Rosita looked down at Tara's hand over hers and covered it with her other, smiling gently to herself, and she squeezed her hand before leaning down and wrapping an arm around her shoulders. It had been a long day, and honestly a little solace went a long way. Contact and warmth fought off the bitter and pessimistic thoughts that had been clinging to her since she sat down._

" _But seeing Aaron will make me feel better, so yeah."_

––

" _Carol?" Shane entered her room and found her lying curled up on her side. "Carol."_

 _She looked over and tears sprang up in her eyes at the sight of him._

" _Hey." He rushed over. "It's okay. I'm here."_

 _She shook her head and began to bawl so hard the bed trembled, and he saw blood on her hospital gown from the way she was curled up. It'd pulled on her stitches. He didn't want to lecture her or have them send him out so they could tend to her, so he climbed onto the bed and straightened her out against his body. She cried into his chest, he stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, and he hoped to God that the next time they were here together it was because of good news._

 _She dug her nails into his shirt and wailed, but for reasons Shane couldn't begin to understand. She would ensure he never understood. She couldn't do it. She just couldn't._

– – –

It was later that they found out the shooter wasn't an actual cop. He was the son of the man they'd just taken to prison for the rest of his life, and he wanted revenge for losing his father. It was all over the news for weeks, people left flowers and toys on the benches for the fallen for the first couple of months then only on the anniversary. Now only three years later, it was beginning to fall to the wayside. Nobody would truly forget, but perhaps the heartbreak of it wasn't as fresh. The wound was healing, people were moving on, but of course the families would still stop by, leave flowers and stuffed animals. It would still be heartbreaking. The reddish grey pavement would always serve as the time they almost lost Boss, and the time so many precious lives were lost.

"But what father could have survived? The baby's father died, and the little girl's father too."

"His body was never found." Carol spoke from behind Glenn, who was on the phone with Rosita.

"What?" He spun around. "How do you know that?"

"I read through every paper of the event, and I went to the funeral, but his casket was closed. His little girl's wasn't, and when I spoke to the coroner about the damage, he confessed that he didn't get Morales' body. Violet Morales, yes, but not her father. The wife's brother assured him someone else did the autopsy, but...there was never any proof. We were too busy trying to figure out why he did and dealing with the families to look further."

"Could he have been behind it?"

"No, but...I know he's behind this. A "cop" took out his daughter, and we have to pay for that."

"He wasn't a cop. It was spoken and dissect on every new outlet. He has to know it wasn't us."

"I doubt he cares. Facts won't bring back his daughter." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Look, Manny asked me to meet him across town, and since there's no bomb here, I'm gonna go. He...and I have a lot to talk about, but I'll be back."

"Okay, Rosita's with the clerk, and you're bailing on us? We need to be united here."

"We will be. It's a lead, Glenn. Morales was spotted in the area, and we're going to bring him in. You, Aaron, Tara and Rosita will find the bomb, and bomb squad will disarm it. I know you guys can do it."

He heaved a sigh. "Okay, but be careful. He's obviously a loose cannon."

"Hold the fort down, Rhee." She smiled and ducked out to meet Manuel.

"You hear all of that?" Glenn spoke now to Rosita.

"Yeah. I'll be in soon." She exited the building. "That...thing will be somewhere in the area of the station. Has Boss given the order to spread out and search?"

"The second Carol told us the date, yeah."

"Good. I'll search the outer perimeter. I'll be closer to it anyway."

"See you soon." He'd have to try and find that little girl some other time. He knew Aaron had figured out he wanted to find her for more than just an answer. Maybe next time he'd be able to at least try.

She hung up and opened her car door. They had two hours until it was two-forty-five, and then it was nuke city. They had to find it. They had to start acting like a team again. Manuel might have chopped up the team lines, but they still had family lines, and he couldn't touch them. No one was going to die today, expect for maybe Morales.

––

Carol found herself wandering the streets alone with only her overcoat and weapon, which she had drawn as she made her way through the building where she and Manuel were to meet. She wouldn't forget what he'd done and said to Wilson, and she was going to let him have a piece of her mind, but right now she had to resist the urge to kick herself. In the middle of a case like things, she allowed herself to be drawn into a trap.

Manuel was nowhere to be found, and her cell phone was blocked. No word in, no word out. She had a flat tired to boot, the knife was still stuck in there, and the spare they had in the truck had been given to Glenn. He needed it last winter, and they had forgotten to replace it. It didn't seem so pressing until right the fuck now when she was stranded. (Not that she had the proper equipment to actually change a tire, but if she did, she would have gotten the fuck out of there the moment everything was in working order.)

She crept down a hall, hearing noise in the distant and soon shadows from a light. She quickened her pace but minded how loudly she stepped. It was a skill she'd learn long before she became a cop. She had to tread lightly with Ed. She never wanted him to know she was home, or that she was leaving. He always had something to say, some cruel jab to make at her or her clothes or her makeup. Or he'd be an ass and ensured she didn't leave the house for weeks. She could only hide so many bruises after all, and covering a fresh shiner was no slight task especially when he went through her room and threw away her makeup and other items he had no right to even see let alone touch.

She flattened her back against the wall, pushing back the thoughts of him, and she listened for any movement or breathing from the other side of the wall, but there was nothing. A scratching that reminded her of a record player, but nothing more. There wasn't anyone in that room that was moving. It could be empty, or he could sitting very still, making no noise and hoping she didn't open the door and shed light in on his disgusting mass-murder-plotting existence. Or perhaps he was waiting for her, armed to the teeth, ready to take her out. He drew her away to take her out then he might sit back and wait for the bomb to blow, savoring every second of it.

She clenched her jaw. There was only one way to find out. She threw the door open but only found a stairwell leading to a basement. The scratching sound she had heard earlier originated from there. She readied herself and climbed down the stairs, her gun as leading as she plunged into the darkness.

Her boots echoed on the cold cement, her eyes unable to guide her, and her heart danced in her eardrums. She closed her eyes and took a few calming breaths, stilling her hands and her heartbeat. She was never a fan of a dark. She knew what manner of beasts lurk there after all.

She heard a loud click, her eyes flew open as the lights flickered to lift with a dull buzz, and an eerie shadow stood no less than ten feet away from her. She adjusted her grip on her gun and parted her lips to speak a command to for this person to show themselves, but the person was all too compliant to words she had yet to utter.

Morales stepped out of the darkness, hands up in a sign of peace, looking more aged and worn than anyone should in a short gap of two years. He offered what she assumed was a kind smile, but after years of festering in isolation it was nothing but a smirk that sent shudders down her spine.

"Detective Carol Peletier."

"Luis Morales."

"You did your research; so did I." He moved towards her. "Don't worry. I won't hurt you."

"I find that very hard to believe."

"Why's that?"

"You planted a bomb around my office for one! You intend to kill every cop in headquaters and innocent bystanders! You'll scar the area in more ways than one!"

"But...you are no where near your office," was all he said.

"Excuse me?"

"You're safe. Here. With me." He gestured around. "I have no weapon, and I have no intentions of hurting or keeping you here. Not you."

"Why not me? What makes me so damn unlucky?"

"Unlucky? I'm letting you live. You're young. You have your whole life ahead of you. This will be a cleansing wave. You can start anew."

"A—a cleansing wave? Start anew?" She dropped her arm and gestured wildly—furiously—with the other towards the doorway she'd entered through. "I had! I had started over! My life...where I am mentally and physically...my goals and hopes...everything! Everything has been reset! I don't need some nuke to do that for me."

"No, not in the way that I mean."

"What way is that?" she demanded. "Since you have full control over my life, what path do you just know my life should start over? What areas should be tweaked? Hmm? My—my childhood? My rough teenager years? The end of my last relationship? Well?!"

He drew closer to her, she jerked back when he was near enough to touch her, and he spoke words that almost caused her to lose her grip on her gun. She felt her eyes burn, and she ground her teeth to try and force herself to be angry, to let the rage win, because the sadness was too much. She didn't want it to conquer her. She wanted to turn this around and have him stop the bomb and then she would just go home while he rotted in jail for the rest of his pathetic life. She wanted to swallow her secret and better herself for it, not shrivel up and cry every time it was brought up. She wanted to be brave and healed.

But she wasn't.

––

"Have you found anything?" Rosita could see the do not cross this line tape from where she had parked, and she hopped out of the car.

"Not a thing." Tara watched as they rolled the camera through the vents for the second time. "I think we have it wrong."

"We can't have it wrong. It's the twenty-fourth, and we only have forty five minutes until boom. It has to be in the building."

"It's not. They haven't found anything around the building either, not even a whisper of radioactive material. I think we've been misinformed, or this is an elaborate hoax."

"Willie would be able to tell the difference between the truth and childish lies. He's smarter than that."

"Not saying he isn't, gorgeous, but...there is nothing topside, okay?"

She sighed. "How about Carol and Manny? What have they found?"

"I haven't found anything."

Rosita turned and found Manuel behind her, tugging a beanie off his head, and she gaped. "I'll call you back." She hung up on Tara and tried not to seem so unnerved by the lack of one curly Carol Peletier. "I thought you were with Carol."

"Yeah, early this morning. We saw the sunrise." He smirked. "But...uh, we split up. She went left, I went right. That sort of thing."

"Carol doesn't ditch people."

"I didn't say she ditched me." He studied her. "It's complicated."

"Or you overstepped your bounds and pissed her off." She narrowed her eyes. "I know Carol better than you, and that's not me being arrogant—it's a fact. If you hurt her...you'll regret it. She can kick your ass just fine on her own, but I'll be right there to kick whatever ass you have left."

He lifted his hands, fingers wriggling, and he lost his smirk. "I come in peace. I wouldn't...intentionally cause her harm."

"You better not." She stuffed her phone in her pocket. "And speaking of Carol...we might have a problem."

"It'll have to wait. She's a tough cookie, and she can take care of herself." He lowered his voice some, entering her personal space. "I know where it is."

She blinked. "Yo—you know? How?"

"I have my ways." He stuffed his hands into his pockets, pretending they were cold but really hiding his bruised knuckles. "I hope you're not afraid of getting dirty."

She chuckled. "I love to get dirty, just not with the law."

"Good, because we're going down."

"Down? Down where?" Her eyes narrowed even more, to slits, and she scoffed somewhat impressed. "He put it underneath the damn building, didn't he? All the way down?"

"All the way down." He nodded.

"Have you told bomb squad? Louis will want to know. He's best suited to handle this."

"Yeah...well, the thing is I can't prove that it's down here. I don't have written documentation or a witness. It's really just my word, and my word doesn't mean shit to you or your Philly friends."

"What are you suggesting? We go skipping down there and disengage the bomb ourselves?" She shook her head.

"Don't shake your head; it's my plan, and it'll work."

"Oh, and we'll shut it off with what? My sharp tongue and your cunning wit?" She scoffed. "Seriously, Taylor? What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have a death wish? For yourself and half the city?"

"No, but I might be wrong. It makes sense, but...who knows? Maybe he put the damn thing in the building next door. Who can say? We just have to try, and if we're wrong, we're wrong. We have a whole group of people looking for this damn thing, so...whether or not I'm right—"

"All right, enough with the speech please." She held a hand up. "Enough with the stupid plan. Let's reverse this and take it back to the one thing that actually makes sense."

He frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Carol. You said it could wait, does that mean you've been in contact with her? Did she tell you anything about your lead?"

His brows knitted together, his frown deepened, and he was eyeing her like she'd down a Red Bull and actually sprouted wings. "What...lead are you talking about?"

"Y'know, the one you found across town. You called Carol, and she left to meet you. You said you saw her this morning? It was still kind of early when she left, so what happened there? Anything we can use? And why am I explaining this to you? You were the one who was..." She trailed off. "Oh, fuck."

"Oh, fuck indeed." He sucked air in through his teeth. "The bomber contacted Carol, lured her away or—or hell, maybe to where the bomb actually is!"

"We have to find her. She's in danger, bomb or no bomb. He made an effort to single her out, and we have to find them." She pulled out her phone and flipped through the apps on it to find the one she was looking for. Carol would kill her stone dead if she knew about this, but it was for occasions like this that Rosita had installed a tracker on Carol's phone. And Tara's. And pretty much everyone in the office that she cared about save for Boss. His phone was too damn old. She needed to bring him into this century, but he was determined to stay where he was comfortable.

"What are you doing?" He moved beside her, erasing her personal space, and he ran his eyes over her phone screen. "Oh. She'd kill you for that."

"I know, but I take care of the people I love, okay? She'll just have to get used to it when I tell her, or I won't have to, because she doesn't need to find out."

"No, Rosita, I mean... With her childhood, you really shouldn't have done that."

"Her childhood?" She sent him a glower. "Don't act like you're the only person in the entire world who knows Carol, all right? I know her pretty damn well, so let me handle this."

"Hey, look. She's...under the building?" He frowned. "Wait, what? That's where the bomb... Well, where I thought it was." He cleared his throat.

"Or where Morales has our friend." She slipped her phone back into her pocket. "We need to find a way down. I'm assuming you have an idea."

He smirked. "Better than that."

"Good, let's go. We just wasted ten minutes. We have half an hour to get down there and bring her back. Let's make it snappy."

"You're rude under pressure."

"I don't even have time to argue that! Let's just go!" She knew what was on the line, and she would not lose it. She couldn't. "Lead the way, Taylor."

He caught up to her and guided the way. He had it mapped out before he even tried to seek out aid. It was one of those traits that made him ill-suited for a partner. He was more of a solo act. It was just better for him that way. He didn't have to be tied down. He didn't have to rely on anybody, or be slowed down. He just worked best alone. It reflected in his personal life too, in his relationships, but at least he wasn't disappointed or hurt this way. Lonely was something he had adjusted to.

Using his phone as a flashlight, he heaved a silent sigh, his chest aching slightly. After what happened with Carol this morning, it was evident he was better left a solo man. He wasn't wrong to do what he did. He might have gone a little too far, but with a case like this it was absolutely necessary. Willie did know more, so he was right to do it. He held back, and Manuel made him open up. To Carol, but still. They needed answers, and they got them. He didn't regret anything other than Carol being there and seeing him like that.

He glanced at Rosita and spoke. "Just...fyi...Carol might not be thrilled to see me, so why don't you go for her? I'll go for either Morales or the bomb, whichever is down here with her."

"Why wouldn't she be thrilled to see you?" she snapped back. "Did you do something to her?"

"No, I didn't do anything to her."

"Then to someone else? Someone she cared about?"

"It's none of your business. It's between her and me, so why don't you just make sure she's all right once we're there?"

"Only if you tell me why."

"Why what?" He swept the beam of the light across the floor and avoided eye contact, though not intentionally.

"Why you clung to Carol and to Boss? Why we weren't good enough for you to trust? For you to take with you? We're a good team, good people, and I don't understand why you didn't try to see that."

"I have my reasons."

"So tell them to me."

"Why?"

"Because I asked. And if we're going to die due to your gung ho desire to be alone, I want to know why."

"I don't mix well with people. You oughta to know that. I don't get close. I don't rely on anybody, expect for a couple of people who haven't let me down, but even then I'm still waiting for them too." He mumbled that last part to himself, however they were in a sewer and the words echoed off the wall beside him and into her ear.

"You can't live like that. You have to have somebody."

"Why do I have to? I do just fine on my own. It's a little lonely, but maybe I'll get a dog." He stomped forward. "I don't need or want a lecture from you of all people."

"Me of all people? What the hell does that mean?"

"Screwing around with Tara isn't a relationship, you know? You're just as alone as I am, because deep inside that's how you want it to be." He looked back at her briefly. "I'm not the only one clinging to a past hurt and using it as a shield. I'm just the only one who'll admit it."

She wanted to blush at him figuring her and Tara out, but only anger surged through her, and the flush that came was from her blood heating up to argue. "Do not compare us—ever. I am not you, and you certainly are not me. My past is mine, and you can't prod your way through it like a bull in a damn China shop. You don't know anything."

"I didn't get to where I am, because I'm connected to some higher ups, Espinosa. You two won't last. You won't let it last. That's how it goes, how we think and how we...well, I won't say how we handle relationships, because again screwing her isn't a relationship. I doubt you've even gone on a date, which means that expiration date for you two is only getting closer." He stopped when his personal dosimeter began to sound, and he smiled. "We're getting close."

"To what exactly?" She pushed back her irritation and ire for the moment to allow the case to have her full attention. "Carol? Or..." The question she was about to ask shrank back and retreated down her throat at the sight they had all heard about but had yet to see until that exact moment.

Their dirty bomb sat there less than fifty feet away in all it's fatal glory. A workstation stood forty feet from it with blueprints on how to properly make the bomb with leftovers lying about. There was a small cot and blankets to the far corner of the room with pictures neatly placed on the blankets, old takeout containers cluttered the floor, and there on the makeshift nightstand was a cell phone, but it wasn't Carol's.

Rosita was about to pick it up when she realized it could be a trap. He lured Carol away, hacked into Rosita's phone to trick it into sending them down here, and for all she knew this could trigger the bomb. It had a clock, but that didn't mean shit. It could have a detonator too. She wouldn't put it past him. She would look at it once bomb squad had shut everything ready to blow off. Until then her hands would be kept to herself.

The photos on the bed were of a little girl, one of the children who had died in the shootout nearly three years ago, and there was a prayer in Spanish written in the corner. It asked for forgiveness, for retribution, but it wasn't for the crime he was about to commit; it was for the crime he committed two and a half years ago. When he didn't—couldn't protect his little girl, when she died in his arms, when he left an unfillable hole in his wife and son's life. He wanted forgiveness for their agony, for his failure. It was almost sweet, if he hadn't gone nuts down here, stewing in his own failure and madness.

"No sign Carol was ever down here." Manuel was checking out the bomb. "Is there?"

"No, only him." She turned to face Manuel, digging her phone out of her pocket. "How much time do we have? I can have Louis down here in half that time."

He stopped moving and gulped. "Unless he can teleport...it ain't gonna be fast enough."

"What?" She ran over to where he was and saw they were approaching their very last minute. "We—we only took a couple minutes getting down here. We—we huffed it, so we should have—"

"The attacker caught you by surprise, remember?" He interrupted her. "And now we're caught by surprise."

Big block letters counted down from sixty, Manuel reached over and Rosita found him grasping for her hand blindly. She didn't pull away or care to ask why as they reached the fifties, and her heart began to race, seeing all the things she'd ever done and wanted to do flash before her eyes, and tears sprung up instantly at the thought of never doing them. Little things ran through her head, stupid and silly things.

When was the last time she called her mom? When was the last time she went home? When was the last time she sat down and just talked to her parents? To her family? She remembered the last time her mom invited her over, she had to cancel to work a case. She said she'd make it up to them, but another case came then another. She missed her dad's birthday, because of her job. She wrote a card and had the gift all ready, but she had to make an appearance in court. She called to explain, and he said he understood, but...he was heartbroken and disappointed. Proud as hell of his little girl, but that only went so far.

Fuck, what the last thing she said to Carol? Or Aaron or Glenn? To Boss? Or to Tara? She could remember being in her room with her, just hanging out, killing time and trying to play the rogue agents. They had fun. A lot of fun, more than Rosita could remember having outside of work or going dancing or clubbing. She hadn't just chilled out at home with anybody and just talked and had genuine fun for years.

Heart heart ached at the sight of twenty seconds remaining on her life, and she closed her eyes, thinking of how to stop this. With a trembling hand, she yanked out the cords connecting the timer to the device, hoping against hope that they didn't trigger it automatically and nuke the town. Praying with every ounce of her faith that it stopped the clock. Wishing on that big burning star in the sky as it was the only one visible at this hour that those digits wouldn't lower any further.

 _**19...18...17...16...**_

––

"I lost my little girl two and a half years ago today," he recited to Carol. "Her name was Violet. She was only ten years old. She was going to turn eleven in the spring. She wanted to take up dance. She liked how it looked. She wasn't the best on her feet, but she enjoyed it. She was a happy little girl. She was kind. She was loving. She was selfless. She was everything you'd want your child to be, the very best of both parents and her own self."

He looked over one of the last photos he had taken of his girl. "She was my angel, her and her brother were my entire life. I would have done anything to protect them. I would have given my life up...a million times over to have been the one to die that day... I've begged and begged, but nothing ever became of it."

"Why are you doing this?" A low, weak sound slipped from her lips, dry and raspy. "Justice? Or vengeance? Because the person who did this is dead. His blood stains the pavement just as much as your little girl's."

"It's not about justice or vengeance."

"Bullshit."

"It's about...showing the world one sliver of my anguish. It's about ridding that pavement of its reddish hue. It's about saying goodbye." His eyes fell to his wedding ring. "And moving on."

She shook her head. "I don't believe that."

"Well, it's a good thing I don't care if you do."

"How did survive? You were shot too. You were hauled off to the hospital along with the others. So tell me how."

"I was dying, and they tried to save me. I flat lined...five times? But they brought me back, sewed me up, pumped me with blood. Yet the young cops and the baby were kept tabs on. They captured the limelight. They were vital, more so than me, and I was able to slip out. No hospital wants to admit they lost a patient, so I was listed as dead. If you want to disappear in this town, sometimes it makes so simple."

"But your wife—"

"—fell into a major depression, my son was lost to the system until my cousin adopted him, and nobody thought to look for me. And even if they had, I ensured they didn't. A small bit of knowledge on technology, and things are as smooth as gold. It worked out well for me."

"How could you do this? Leave your son? Your wife? If you loved them at all...how could you do it? How could you leave?" She scorned him from where she sat collapsed on the floor, tear crusted eyes narrow, judging him and hating him.

"I failed them in that moment. I let them all down in the worst possible way. I wasn't worthy of being a husband, of being a father, of knowing love or seeing my child grow to learn, to heal, to achieve, to love. I didn't deserve it, and he deserved a better man than I could be. If that moment taught me anything, it was...in the face of the world I'm powerless. And being powerless took life from me. I won't let that happen again."

"And me?" she inquired. "How did you find out?"

"I passed your room when I slipped out. I heard the nurse."

She shuddered and tears prickled up in the corners of her eyes. "Oh."

He bent down to be at eye level with the detective. "We both lost something precious, Carol, and it's just about time for us to heal."

"It's an old wound," she muttered.

"Then why is it bleeding?" He smiled softly. "Not at blood is red, Carol."

"Don't say my name like we're friends! Don't say my name like you know me or what I've been through! You aren't, you don't, and you won't." She growled her words. "I'm taking you in."

"No." It was soft response, calm.

"Then why are my handcuffs ready?"

He reached out and clamped his hand around her throat, she choked and whined, releasing the handcuffs to pry his hand off her neck. He winced at his actions, an apology in those dark eyes, and she clawed at him. He wasn't letting up, and she couldn't stand up at this angle. She could see spots in her eyes, and blackness began to rim her vision as well. Panic welled inside of her, her hand fell from her neck and to her side where her gun rested on the ground, and she was ready to shoot his leg to have him release her, but he grabbed her hand and moved it to his chest.

"W—what are you doing?" she struggled.

"Ending this."

"I—I won't."

He tightened his grip. "I'll make you."

She cried out, her finger immediately pulled back somewhat on the trigger, and her earlier tears ran down her cheek. She closed her eyes, knowing he wouldn't stop, because this was how this was going to end, how it was always going to end.

– – –

Tara stepped out of the building with Glenn and Aaron behind her, their eyes coming to rest on two worn agents, and they broke out in smiles. Tara ran over and tackled Rosita in a tight hug, cradling the back of her head. It would have been a giveaway had Glenn and Aaron not joined them and caused them all to fall on the ground. They were like gigging school children, and they had every goddamn right to be.

"You did it." Tara beamed at Rosita. "It's two fifty-eight."

She shook her head. "We did it."

"I'm so glad you're in one piece." Aaron laughed lightly. "You scared the shit out of us."

"It's what I do best." She winked at him, and he rolled his eyes.

"Can you get off?" Glenn strained. "You're crushing my pancreas."

"Sorry!"

They stood up, Aaron helping Glenn to his feet and laughing at his pained expression, and Tara pulling Rosita to her feet, her hand lingering in her eyes, though nobody noticed, save for one set of eyes.

"Where's Carol?" Glenn scanned the area.

"Oh, God." Rosita paled. "We have to move. She's with Morales. I completely forgot. I was just so ecstatic to have disabled the bomb. Shit."

"We'll go." Manuel gestured to Tara and Rosita. "Glenn, Aaron, why don't you stay and help out? Once word of the bomb gets out, the press are gonna have a field day. Plus...I know some will want to meet Rosita, laugh at her bravery and sheer dumb luck."

"Gotta have some kind of luck," she replied.

"We don't even know where she went," Glenn reminded him. "Only she knew."

"I can tap into the GPS in her car." Tara was already buckling herself in and digging out her phone. "Now let's haul ass. I don't even want to know what that creep's doing to her."

Rosita jogged over the driver's seat, Manuel on her heels, and they split up. Glenn and Aaron were sitting ducks for the press, so they made themselves useful, leaving the bomb squad to clean up the mess underneath them. Glenn and Aaron both hoped they made it in time before something terrible happened to Carol. After the relief of the bomb being disabled...knowing Carol was in danger felt...odd. Like putting dirty clothes on after showing. Good news, now bad. They knew how they should feel, but it hadn't made it way through them entirely yet, and by the time it did, she'd be home safe and sound. Or she'd damn well better be.

The drive to where the car was seemed to fly by as Manny broke just about every damn speeding law in the entire world, and had most of Philly PD not been at headquaters, they would have gotten pulled over so many times they'd only get out by next week. When they got out of the car, they decided to divide and conquer.

Manny jogged through the building, looking for any shoe prints in the dust, and he caught a break, seeing the shuffle of boots both small and wide. He called to Tara and Rosita, spotting an entrance, and he bolted towards it, leaving the women behind him to call after him.

"Carol?" He padded down some steps and found her. "Carol!"

She looked impossibly small on the floor, arm extended outward still, blood seeping through her pants, a bruise forming on her neck. Her eyes were hollow and puffy, cheeks stained with tears, and she wasn't blinking.

"Carol?" He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder.

She dropped her weapon, blinking for the first time in what felt like minutes, and her eyes seared from the sudden moisture. She scrambled to her feet and sought comfort and warmth instantly, but she didn't find herself in Manuel's arms. She instead moved to Tara and Rosita, clumping against her best and oldest friend, and Rosita moved closer to rub her arm and flatten her hair, hushing her.

"What happened?" Manuel approached the women, eyes on Carol.

"He lured me away," she managed. "He—he didn't want me to die in the blast. He wanted...he wanted...he wanted me...to ultimately kill him."

"And you did. It's over. We stopped the bomb." Rosita smiled gently. "It's okay now."

"I killed him," she whispered. "It's not okay."

"I—I didn't mean—" Rosita lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"I just want to go home." She shivered. "Can we just go home?"

"Not yet. Boss will need your statement." Tara looked at Rosita. "We shouldn't have talked to you about this."

"And we didn't." Manuel pulled out his phone and saw he had no service. "He knocked out service. There's likely a box around here. Why don't you try and find it, Rosita? Otherwise we'll be wandering quite a bit before we can call this in."

"I'll go with her." Tara studied Carol. "Or do you need me?"

"Go. The sooner they're here, the sooner I can go home."

The moment Tara and Rosita began their search, Carol buried her face in Manuel's chest to cry, and he smoothed down her hair. These tears had nothing to do with Morales. They were not of relief or joy. They were agony. They were regret. They were mournful.

"He knew," she wailed, her voice muffled by his jacket, trying to erase the words and events of today, both past and present. She didn't want to relive any of it, but he forced her to. She could hear the screams and remember the pain like it happened mere minutes ago. She tried to scorch those memories out of her mind, but apparently they were engraved there."He knew."

He hugged her with one arm, the other still clenching his phone, and he gripped her tightly. "I'm here, Carol, whatever you need." He kissed the top of her head and rested his chin there as she bawled.

Tara watched from the far side of the room with Rosita, unable to hear them, and she wondered what he knew that they—that she—didn't. Perhaps Carol would trust her with it one day. Her eyes moved to Rosita, who flicked the switch on the device that knocked out service, and she lowered her eyes. Perhaps she could trust Carol with hers one day.


	19. Time For Two

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

The paperwork had been filed, Carol's report had been written up, and she had a meeting with IAB tomorrow morning. She had been silent the entire time, speaking only with Boss, and despite the warm embraces she got from Aaron and Glenn, she kept shuddering—and she had been drowning in Manuel's coat since he gave it to her. She'd been wearing hers underneath the entire time too.

Rosita had been dragged off to have a word with the press, Manuel accompanied her with Boss, and Glenn and Aaron had already taken off. They were worried about Carol, but Glenn wanted to see his baby and wife, and Aaron wanted to be with his puppy and Eric. Tara swore she'd look after her, not that she needed to verbalize it. It was pretty much set in stone. They were friends, partners, of course Tara had her back. Carol would need a crowbar to get Tara to leave her.

"I'm going to go home." Carol rose out of her chair. "I have a big meeting tomorrow."

"Manny's heading out tonight. Don't you wanna stick around and say goodbye?" Tara straightened her desk up, keeping an eye on the TV in the break room where Rosita was brushing off titles and trying to avoid answering how she knew how to disable the bomb. Yanking blindly didn't sound so graceful in the face of the entire city.

"I'm not one for goodbyes."

Tara opened her mouth to try and persuade her, but Carol had already fled the scene. She frowned and dropped down into her chair. "See you at home." Her heart felt heavy. _Please, if you need me, please call me. Don't suffer alone._ She knew if she tried to push, Carol would recede inside herself for weeks on end. She'd seen it once before—when Carol made her first kill—and she couldn't see her endure that again. She hoped Carol got smart and reached out to someone. Hell, anybody! She just couldn't bear to know she's struggling through alone.

"Hey, Rosita's about to wrap it up." Boss entered the office. "Why don't you grab her on her way out? We should celebrate. My treat."

"Aww, Boss. I knew you loved us." She grinned.

"Don't try and get on my good side now." He smirked at her. "That chance has come and gone."

"You didn't deny loving us."

"Chambler."

"Yes, sir." She swiped her coat and headed out to catch Rosita before she was mobbed by the press and reporters. She jogged out of the building where Rosita was trying to shake off some people, and she caught up to her at the same time a man holding a little girl did.

Tara had seen him many times before around the building and in ceremonies. He was a part of the cold unit, Detective Scotty Valens. He was a real hot head, apparently, not unlike their own Rosita Espinosa. He was a good cop though, a good man. She'd heard a lot about him and his partner. She knew Carol saw a role model in his partner, and if she was here, Tara would have scored some major points introducing them, but neither Rush nor Peletier were here, so oh well.

He adjusted the girl in his arms, and Tara ran her eyes over the adorable little bundle he was holding. She couldn't have been older than five with long black hair tucked under a beanie, her big blue-grey eyes moved from Rosita to Tara, somehow disappointed. She was likely looking for her mom. She began to pout, and she was even cuter. She had chubby cheeks and the same bronze skin as her father. If Tara wasn't a cop, she would have considered kidnapping and raising this child as her own.

"Rosita." He smiled at her. "We've never officially met. I work cold jobs."

"And I work fresh ones." She smiled back. "But I do know you. Scotty, right?"

"Yeah."

"And who's this?" She turned her smile to the child. "Hey, sweetie."

"This is my daughter, Regina. Say hi."

"Hello." She waved.

"Aww." Rosita waved back. "It's nice to meet you both."

"I didn't just come for introductions." He held his hand out to her, Rosita reached out and he shook it. "I wanted to thank you. Without you, I would have lost my daughter and my wife. I cannot thank you enough. You really did us proud. I know I'm damn happy to call you one of ours."

"Oh." Rosita blushed, embarrassed by the laud. "I just...did my job. It's nothing."

"It's everything," he corrected, his eyes moving to something behind them. "Really, Rosita, thank you."

"You're welcome. I'd like to stay and chat, but Tara is here to drag me back to paperwork hell. You know how it is." He nodded. "You guys have a good night." She smiled once more at Regina and pulled Tara side.

"We finished the paperwork. Boss wanted to take us out to celebrate."

"I know, but I didn't want to stand there and have praise thrown at me for sheer dumb luck." She stuffed her hands in her pockets. "I'll meet you by the car, okay?"

"Yeah."

Rosita watched her walk off before moving her eyes back to Scotty. She'd seen his attention move to someone behind them, and she was curious to see who it was. She had an answer now. It was to his wife, mother of his child, love of his life. Someone who would have died in the blast had they not been so damn lucky.

"Scotty." She held their daughter so tight Rosita worried she might suffocate her, but she released her and kissed her forehead, smiling with tears glistening in her eyes. "You're okay?"

"Yeah, we're fine, Lil." He smiled lovingly at her, reaching up to cradle the back of her head, and he rested his forehead against hers tenderly.

"She got away from Jeffries..." She snuffled, eyes closed. "I—I was so worried, and then—"

"It's okay, Lil. She's okay. We're okay." He kissed her lips lightly and pulled them into his arms.

Rosita smiled, her chest aching, and for a moment—one moment without her walls—she considered that being her. Coming out of a life or death situation, finding that one person waiting outside for her. How it would feel to openly embrace them, their child or children, to feel that warmth and love surround her. It only brought her more agony, because she knew she wouldn't allow herself to have those things. And right now...she was causing Tara to never have those things, either.

Her eyes moved back to where Tara was messing with Boss, laughing and earning his playful brow arch, and she felt sick with guilt. She realized two things down there in the dark with only those red letters and Manuel. She wasn't sure which would dominate in the end, but right now the latter was. She didn't want to end it with Tara, but she couldn't live with herself if she kept Tara from finding what Valens had.

Her ears caught what Scotty murmured to his wife, and she felt a rock falling onto her chest. She lifted her head so she couldn't view Boss and Tara anymore, and she wanted to seep into the earth.

"Te quiero, mi alma."

 _I love you, my soul._ What if she was keeping some amazing woman from saying that to Tara? The thought of her taking away her own happiness didn't make her blink, but taking away Tara's? And some random stranger out there? It nearly brought tears to her eyes. But she had to smile. She had to smile and endure, because they had to celebrate. Yay.

––

Her clothes had been taken as evidence, so her gym sweats and tank top along with her and Manuel's overcoats lay crumpled on the bathroom floor, the hiss of the shower dying out as it adjusted to being used, and Carol sat in the tub, shuddering under the heated strands of water. She pulled her legs in tighter, bringing a finger to her lips, and she closed her eyes as water pushed down her curls into her face.

She hadn't let herself think about that day in three years. She couldn't relive it. She had her time with Manuel, and that was it. She swore to never linger on the events of that day. There was so much blood and loss and terror. She couldn't dwell on it. But she could still feel the bullet entering her body. She felt panic twisting through her lungs, and she bit down on the finger between her lips to try and focus attention on the pain there.

" _Carol?"_ His voice was so raw and so relaxed at the same time. He had been so relieved to know she was all right, but of course that hadn't lasted long. She just broke down into tears, and she never even told him why exactly. She couldn't tell him or herself why ever again. It was in the past, she made herself think. It was in the past, and it'd stay there.

" _I'm here, baby." He held her so close, kissed the side of her neck, and he could feel her blood seeping through onto his shirt, but honestly that didn't matter. Only she did. "I'm here."_

She could still feel his grip. He'd never held her so tightly before. She was grateful. She surely felt she would have fallen to pieces if he hadn't been there to hold her together. She fell even more in love with him in that moment, but she also betrayed him in the worst way in that moment. She couldn't forgive herself for that. There was nothing she could do about it now, simply carry this burden and betrayal with her to her grave. He wasn't in her life anymore. He made that perfectly clear that they were nothing—not lovers, not friends, not even acquaintances. There was no taking that back, but if she could just tell him one more thing... It would be this truth: he gave her the best three years of her life. She wouldn't forget that.

She released her finger and smoothed her curls back away from her face, opening her eyes and finding tears rolling down her cheeks now. Clearly not thinking about something wasn't the same as forgetting. She'd have to remember that.

The soft notes of her default ringtone began to sweep through the bathroom, she wiped at her eyes and wondered who was calling. Tara had her own ringtone, as did the rest of her team. No one else should have her number, so who was it?

She was about to ignore it when she realized Daryl would have the default ringtone. If he saw the news, he might want to know if she's all right. She shot up and climbed out of the tub, wrapping herself up in a towel and flying over to the sink to answer before it went to her voice mail. She slid on the tiles and hit the sink, but managed to catch her balance and answer in time.

"Peletier."

"Hey." It was Daryl. "I just caught the news. I guess it was a big case then."

She turned the water off and sat on the edge of the tub. "Yes, it was."

"Well, I'm glad you got it closed. I like being alive and...my town in one piece."

"You were in range?" Her heart stopped.

"At the time I was, yeah."

"I'm so sorry."

"Why? You didn't make it. Your team stopped it. You took out the guy, right? It wasn't your fault."

She bit her bottom lip and didn't speak.

"You have nothing to apologize for," he softly added.

"No, I know that." She tried to keep the thickness out of her voice. She couldn't stop the tears, but she would try and sound normal. She didn't want to worry him. "It's...just been a long day, you know? I—I'm tired, and it's barely five."

"I think you deserve to turn in early after today."

"Well, if I did, I'd wake up at four in the morning. I'd be crabby all day. I don't think my team would like me very much."

"Then...maybe you should hang out with me. You can't be any worse than my brother."

She blinked, tears hitting the towel wrapped around her, and she swallowed. "W—what?"

"I just... I'm free tomorrow, and I bet you have to work. I just...wanted to hang out. It's the middle of the week. I should've guessed you gotta work."

"No, I don't. I mean...I have a meeting in the morning, but I'm free after that."

"Really? Uh, great. Why don't you stop by after? My schedule's clear...mostly. I just gotta take a call near noon, but that ain't set in stone."

She smiled a little. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah." He was smiling, and he felt ridiculous. He was grateful Merle wasn't there to tease him about it. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She hung up, the smile came crumbling down as the tears invaded her eyes and blurred her vision. She buried her face in her hands, her tears rolling over the protective glass on her screen, splashing down onto her knees. She sat there alone in a towel, bawling her eyes out, because of a secret she swore to never share with anybody. It felt more like a knife to the heart than a secret, and she couldn't bear to hold it alone. Practically alone, anyway.

– – –

Rosita lied in bed the following morning, sighing softly and wondering how Carol's meeting with IAB went. She wanted to call and ask, but honestly she wasn't so sure she wanted to know. Carol hadn't kill him in cold blood. It was in self-defense. She had his DNA and hand prints on her throat, and he would have killed her had she not been able to draw her gun and stop him. It wasn't something she wanted to do. It was something she _had_ to do.

She rolled over. Was Carol all right with that? It wasn't a decision she made. It was made for her when he started to strangle her. Did Carol know it wasn't her fault? She didn't do anything to provoke him. He just picked her out of all of them for some unknown reason, and he tortured her. He made sure she did the one thing he wanted: killed him. Carol might not fully heal from that. She was still recovering from the murder-suicide with that bullied student, and not to mention her first kill...

She reached over and picked up her phone, dialing Carol's number, and she hesitated. She didn't want to get in Jones' way, and Carol probably had her cell phone off for the meeting, so there was no point to this. She wouldn't pick up anyway. She avoided them last night, and she likely would continue to avoid them. She needed space, and they would let her have it. She would let her have it. She had no control over the rest of the team, but she did over herself, so she'd leave it alone for now.

She stood up, abandoning her phone on her mattress, and she headed to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. She didn't feel like leaving the house right now, and honestly she didn't want to hear how proud she made her team and her fellow officers. She didn't do anything amazing, just ballsy, and it worked. It worked, and it was just luck. It wasn't due to her police training. It wasn't due to her cross-training with the bomb squad unit. It was just sheer dumb luck, like Manuel had said. She was a lucky woman, apparently that applied in more than just her personal life.

She searched through her cabinets and found a box of pancake mix. She was starving, and waffles sounded good. She had a waffle iron around here somewhere, and pancake mix could be used for that too. Maybe she could invite over Tara and have waffles together. She was a little lonely, to be honest. All those cameras and reporters in her face last night, and she was lonely. It bleed over into this morning. Lovely.

She tapped her fingernails on the counter before pushing off and heading back to her bedroom to retrieve her phone. She dialed the all too familiar number and waited through two rings.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?"

"It's six 'o clock."

"And Boss gave us the day off."

"Come over. Please? I want some company, and you like waffles, right?"

"Waffles?" She sat up and pushed hair out of her face. "Rosita, it's six in the morning, and you want me to come over for waffles?"

"Yes."

She chuckled and shook her head. "Give me fifteen minutes."

She grinned. "Okay."

Tara hung up and slipped out of bed. "Freak." She smiled to herself and pulled out an appropriate outfit for the icy weather today. She was going to stick around and hear how it went with Jones, but honestly she doubted Carol wanted to talk about it. She hadn't talked to anybody since last night, and Tara didn't want to push. She wanted Carol to be all right, so she'd just have to wait until Carol came to her.

If she came to her. She might just put up her walls and leave them up until she was able to handle what happened with Morales in that building. She wasn't the type to work through things well. She often pulled away and grew quiet. Or worse. She became this totally fake person who was the definition of a cop, and she did everything—everything—painfully by the book. She wasn't Carol in those moments. She was hiding behind a mask, showing the face that everyone wanted to see or was expected to see of a homicide detective. Everyone who knew and loved her hated that version of her. That false persona. It made them sick to know she was in such torment that she couldn't be herself.

It was then Tara sent Rosita text telling her she would twenty minutes. She needed a nice hot shower to wash those thoughts out of head. She'd worry about it later. She only hoped Carol didn't go to Mexico to escape her problems this time. She doubted her new boyfriend would like that very much, especially if she dragged Manny along with her. Although if she wanted to take her or Rosita, that would be another story. It'd be a vacation with friends, and it meant she trusted them enough to open up that part of herself to them. Maybe one day.

After a quick shower, Tara bounded out the front door. She knew Carol wasn't home, so there was no point saying goodbye to her. She didn't know where'd she gone this morning, but she knew she wasn't meeting Jones at five this morning. She likely went to pump herself full of coffee or tea or muffins. It depended on what mood was in. Tara hoped whatever mood that was wasn't a negative or harmful mood. Carol's thought did a lot more damage than she ever let them know, but Tara knew her like she knew the back of her hand, so she knew the scars they left on her mind.

Twenty-four minutes later Tara found herself outside Rosita's apartment building, and she headed up. She knew nobody would see her there. Glenn was in Georgia with his baby and wife and Maggie's family, and Aaron had driven to New York to be with Eric and Buttons, so that just left Boss. He was probably babysitting his nephew, so there was no one else.

"Hey." Rosita greeted her with a wide grin. "Come inside."

"I can't feel my toes." Tara slipped inside the amazing warmth of the apartment. "Never shower and then immediately leave your house in October in Philly."

"Here, let's get you warm. I just made some coffee." She helped her with her coat and guided her to the living room. "I'll so grab some blankets."

"Thanks."

Rosita lingered in the hallway, glancing back at Tara who rubbed her arms and gazed out the window, and she bit her lower lip, remembering those words spoken on the steps. She lightly hit her fist into her palm and continued to her bedroom, scratching her brow. She released a sigh and decided not to think about it. Tomorrow, maybe. The week after next seemed better, but perhaps that was the longest she could wait.

Tara helped herself to a mug of coffee, curling up on the couch to gaze out at the city, and Rosita joined her with her two blankets. Instead of each having one, they decided to share. Rosita rested her cheek in her palm that was propped up on the back of the couch, her other hand holding her cup of coffee, and Tara held hers in both her hands, warming them. The blankets and their body heat warmed her cold toes, though not before Rosita shuddered and commented to keep them off her ankles.

Rosita peeked at Tara. "Did you see?"

"See what?" Her eyes moved to Rosita's. "The afternoon sky, or...?"

"Those two detectives from the cold unit," she elaborated. "The ones with the kid."

"Oh, the Valens'." She nodded. "I noticed you were looking yourself."

"It was so sweet." She turned her eyes to world outside her window. "They really love each other. They're devoted to each other. They're devoted to their child."

"It _is_ sweet. They have an adorable daughter. Regina, right?" She nodded. "I bet it's Valens-Rush. Regina Valens-Rush."

"Probably." She ran a hand through her bangs.

"What made you bring that up?" Tara inquired.

 _Te quiero, mi alma._ She flinched. "No reason. I was just thinking about it."

"You made the department proud. I'm surprised they haven't award you any medals."

"God, no. No medals. I didn't do anything special. I feel like an idiot when people compliment my bravery and my quick thinking. I just yanked 'em all out. I'm lucky I didn't kill us all."

"You might want to get used to that laud. I don't think people are going to stop anytime soon."

"I know." She blew out a sigh and met her eyes. "I'm just...wanting it over. It hasn't really been a day, but I want it over. I hate being in the spotlight."

"Why? You look pretty good up there."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't want to look good. I want to do my job good. Er, well. I signed on to be a cop, not...not someone's hero."

"But you are someone's hero. A lot of someones."

"I know. I supposed I'll have to get used to it."

"Are you all right?" Tara scrutinized her face thoroughly. "I feel like something's on your mind. The same something that was there last night. You were distant. I know it's not entirely about the media attention."

"I don't want to discuss it just yet."

"All right. Just let me know when you are."

She smiled. "I will."

They cuddled up more against the couch, their gazes slowly to what lurked outside the window since all media outlets were playing the interviews Rosita, Manuel and Boss had given, and they enjoyed the silence. The silence of being with people you love, knowing you didn't need words. It was comfortable. Pleasant, and it gave Rosita time to figure out her thoughts.

– – –

Daryl sat on the fire escape, the cold wind not yet getting to him, and he rested his head on the brick surrounding the window. He inhaled the frigid air and the cold of the city, and he released in a visible puff. He heard a knock on his door and smiled, ducking inside to see who was at the door.

He pulled the door open without even checking and found Merle on the other side, his smile shriveling up. "What're you doin' here?"

"I live here." He gestured to the door on the opposite wall. "I also work here." He pointed down. "And hi. How are you?"

"I'm all right. How are you?"

"Just dandy." He lightly hit him upside the head on his way inside Daryl's apartment. "I thought I taught you manners."

"I'm just expectin' some company, and I'd rather she not see you here."

"She a hooker?" He turned to him with narrow eyes.

"No!" It came out as more of a hiss than a denial, and Daryl wanted to kick himself.

"Oh, got an attitude, do ya? You like this woman." He smirked. "When do I get to meet her?"

"Let's see...it's the twenty-fifth now, so...why not Friday after never?"

"What? I don't get to meet the woman?"

"No."

"And why not?"

"'Cause we've only been on one date. She's goin' through a hard time, and I just want to spend some time gettin' to know her. I wanna know if I even like her enough for me to want her to meet you or for me to meet her parents. That's a pretty big step."

"All right, all right. Don't get your tighty-whitey's in a bunch. I won't be around to meet her anyway. I got a date of my own."

"She a hooker?" Daryl retorted in the same tone Merle had delivered it.

"No, but at the cost of dinner, she might as well be." He chuckled as Daryl shook his head. "Here."

Daryl found a hundred dollar bill pressed into his chest. "What's this?"

"If you take her out, make it someplace nice. If y'all stay in, pick up some nice wine. Hell, be cheap and keep the change. I don't care. It's really up to you."

"No, what's it for? Why are you givin' this to me?"

"Because you filled in for me a lot when I was out. I'm grateful." He smiled at him. "You bring in a lot of clients for us, and I appreciate it."

"Work's slow."

"Bringin' up a business typically is. You'll get there. You...got a head on your shoulders. It ain't just hair up there." He ruffled his hair, earning his smirk. "I'm gonna get outta here before you wanna hug me or start to cry."

"Fuck off." He shoved him towards the door. "And be outta here before she gets here. She'll over any second now."

"I'm movin'. I'm movin'."

He folded the bill and stuffed it into his pocket, running a hand through his hair to try and fix it. He was about to go to the bathroom to comb it when there was a knock on the door. His throat dried out, and he approached the door, checking through the peep hole. It was her.

She wore jeans with grey furry boots and a black coat and white beanie. She was all bundled up and looking adorable and hot at the same time. However her eyes were cast downward, and she was biting her lips scarlet.

He yanked the door opened. "Hey."

She pulled out a smile. "Hey."

"Come in."

"Thanks." She stepped inside the apartment and was stunned. It was beautiful. And spacious. It was like a loft more than an apartment with tall ceilings and two stairways on either side of the living room/kitchen. There was a set of arches to the left underneath the staircase, and she could see his bed peeking out from the corner of it, and she blushed, not entirely sure why.

"Let me take your coat."

"It's a little cold in here." Her eyes spotted the open window.

"Oh, right. Hang out." He skipped over and closed the window, locking it, and he kicked the heat up. "Is that better?"

"A bit. Thank you." She removed her coat, and he hung up beside his. "This is a really nice place."

"Thanks. I've renovated it a bit, gotten rid of walls, so it's just...a wide space. I like...space." He chuckled a little, embarrassed by that truthful comment.

"It's beautiful." Her boots shuffled over the shiny wooden floors. "Marble counter tops? Leather couches? Are you rich?"

"No, not by a long shot." He scratched the back of his head. "I just...uh, refurbished the couches, and a friend of mine cut me a nice deal on the kitchen. It had to be completely redone, and I figured it'd be a nice project for me, given my interest in carpentry."

"Can you do mine?" She run her hand over the smooth black marble counter top, placing the bag of muffins down on its surface. "Wow."

"I came into a bit of...uh, luck since I moved to Philly."

"I'll say." She walked over to the couch, her boots meeting a cushy grey and blue rug. "You have nice taste."

"Thanks."

She pointed to the staircase opposite the bedroom. "What's up there?"

"My office, and a guest bedroom."

"And through there?" She pointed now to the one above his bedroom. Or what she assumed was his bedroom.

"Storage."

"Ah."

He lifted a finger to the one place she blatantly ignored. "That's my bedroom and beside it's the bathroom."

She nodded. "Cool."

He almost laughed. "Do you want anythin'?"

"No, thank you." She rubbed her hands together. "I brought muffins."

"I noticed." He walked over to the brown paper bag with the dark stains on it. "Fresh?"

"Yeah." She joined him. "I already ate, so those are for you."

"Thanks." He opened it and found four inside. "You didn't have to bring me so many."

"Well, maybe I want one or two later on." She smiled at him from the other side of the counter. "So, how was your morning?"

"All right. I spent some time on the fire escape, saw the news, and then I went back out onto the fire escape."

"Weren't you cold?"

"Nah. I don't really...get cold. Unless it's below thirty, and there's snow and ice on the ground."

"I get cold pretty easy. My squad makes fun of me for it, but Rosita gets just as cold just as easily. Glenn too."

"Are you cold now?"

She cocked her head to the side. "I'll survive."

He reached over and grasped her hand. "I heard about...where you were when your team was deactivating the bomb. Are you okay?"

She gulped and shook her head, tears appearing in her eyes. "No."

"Hey." He pulled her closer and embraced her. "I'm sorry it had to end like that."

But it wasn't his death that broke her heart. He made his choice, and he forced her hand. He wasn't going to leave that space alive. She didn't want to kill him, but she had to. He was a criminal, and he was trying to justify mass murder. Her team, PPD, were not to blame for the cold-blooded murder of his child, and he had no right to try and carve out his own justice. It was disgusting, and while she wished he would rot behind bars with that knowledge, he made that impossible. She killed him. It was self-defense, and she would be cleared after talking to the necessary people.

But again it wasn't him. It was what he said to her. The secret she'd been trying to bury. She didn't have anybody to talk to about it, and she didn't feel like talking to Manuel, not after what he did to Willie. She had nobody to talk to it about, and Daryl wasn't the right person either. It was too soon, too personal, and she had to keep it in. She had to keep it buried until she found the right time or the right person to share it with.

Too much time had passed for her to tell Tara. She'd wonder why she didn't tell her sooner. She'd feel a sense of mistrust. Carol had gotten a taste of that when Tara confronted her about the nature of her and Manuel's relationship. She couldn't put Tara through her heartache, and she couldn't put their relationship with through this secret. Maybe one day when they were older, but not now. Carol couldn't speak of it, let alone tell her best friend and not expect to fight her on why she kept it to herself for for long.

Daryl rubbed her back and brought her even closer. "You can talk to me if you want. If you're even allowed to."

"I probably shouldn't." She inhaled deeply. "But thank you for the offer."

"Any time. I'm here to listen."

She forced herself to laugh and pulled away, brushing a thumb under her eye. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring my work over to your place."

"No, it's all right. I—I expected this." He met her eyes. "Sure you don't want something to drink?"

She sniffled. "Actually some coffee would be nice."

"I'll put on a pot."

She watched him get to work, and she smiled a little at the support he'd offered. If only she could open that door...

"Have a seat." He motioned to the couch. "It's comfortable. You just...kinda sink into it."

She glanced at it before nearing it and sitting, and she did sink it. It wasn't like she was swallowed by the couch, but her feet didn't touch the floor unless she made an effort. "Oh."

"Yeah." He chuckled. "Shit tends to follow that."

"No, it's okay." She used the arm to lift herself up and adjusted her butt on the cushion. "It's...nice?"

"I don't think a compliment's supposed to have a question mark after it." He pulled down two coffee cups.

"I'll adjust." She dropped her hands to her lap and watched him. "Why are you wearing shoes?"

"What?" He halted by the fridge.

"It just seems a little odd to wear shoes in your own home."

"I had some errands to run. I just never took 'em off." He shrugged. "Why? You got a thing for feet?"

"No. I was just curious." She smirked at him. "I wear my boots around the house too. I forget I have them on."

"Speaking of your apartment, any new problems?"

"No, and if I had any, I wouldn't tell you."

"Why not? And do you take creamer or milk or anythin'?"

"Uhh, a bit of milk, sure."

He prepared the coffees. "Why not?"

"I dunno. It'd...be weird to ask my boyfriend to fix a window, or—or a creaky chair. It'd be too soon, maybe? I dunno. I've never had a handy guy around the apartment."

"Not even your ex?"

She shook her head. "Shane was gun handy, not...not like you. He wasn't that handy around the house."

He put the milk away and brought over the coffees, sitting beside her. "I can show you a few things, if you want."

"Maybe later. I don't feel like getting wet."

He arched a brow. "What do you think we'll be doin' exactly?"

"Umm, plumbing?" She drank from her cup, ignoring how it burned her tongue.

"I'd start with tools and what they're for first. Then maybe tighten a few screws."

"That's actually a sound plan." She smiled. "I'm a quick study, though, so if you're serious...just let me know."

"Okay." He drank some coffee and swallowed. "But not now. I just want to talk to you for...as long as you'll let me."

She blushed, her smile widening. "I think...I'll let you for a long while."

He smiled back. "Good."

"Good," was all she could say in return with a goofy smile crossing her lips.

––

Rosita had gone to the bathroom, and Tara was sitting on the couch, ordering something to have for dinner. The waffles served as a brunch, so it was dinner now. She glanced at the bathroom door before ending the call and standing up. She told Rosita she'd be back and slid out the front door before Rosita could come back.

"What?" Rosita opened the door, drying her hands on a towel, and she walked into an empty living room. She frowned. "Tara?"

She wasn't anywhere in her apartment. There was no note, no call from Boss, so Tara just left on her own. She might have gotten a call from her family, though that was unlikely. They weren't in contact, not much, since Phillip moved them so far away. It likely had to do with her. It was no surprise. She was great at chasing people off. It was her best talent.

She stuffed her hands in the pockets of her cardigan and sat on the arm of the couch, resting her feet on the cushion below, her gaze unfocused out the window beside her. She rested her head on the cold glass and sighed, closing her eyes and trying not to get upset.

However she was upset. She was remarkably upset with this situation she had with Tara. It wasn't a relationship. It wasn't a commitment. It wasn't anything but keeping her best friend from who could be the love of her life. She was standing in the way of her future, of her happiness, and she was selfish to do that. She was happy with her. She loved spending time with her and hanging out like today, but that didn't mean she was in love with her, that was willing to take that next step and be in love with her. And if she couldn't take that next step then she needed to let her go.

And she had to for Tara's own good. Tara was a great person. She was humorous and kind and silly. She was determined and dedicated. Passionate and amazing. She had a beautiful heart and forgiving soul, but what Rosita was going to do to her wasn't forgivable. Rosita already wouldn't be able to forgive herself if the right woman came along, and Tara declined, because she was loyal to this non-relationship. Tara was a fiercely loyal person, and Rosita might just turn that admirable trait into the reason Tara might one day hate her.

Rosita hated Abe for what he did, for the possibilities he took away, so why on God's green earth wouldn't Tara hate her for what she was doing? Honestly, there was no future here, so what was she doing? Why did she agree to this? The damage this would cause... She should have just stayed away. She should have listened to her gut. She shouldn't have done this. She should not have gone through with this stupid...plan!

She buried her face in her palms covered by her sleeves, and she whimpered, the seeds of self hate planting in her stomach. _I'm the most self-centered person in the entire world. To keep Tara all to myself with no chance of a future...I have to be one of the worst people alive in this city._

Her eyes burned, and the front door opened. She lowered her hands as Tara entered with a couple grocery bags from the store on the corner, her throat dried out, and she stared.

"What? We can't survive off takeout. I thought I'd cook." She kicked the door shut. "Or we could cook together. We've never done that before. I think we need to show your oven how to be an oven, not an empty pizza box holder."

She smiled tearfully. "You can't teach an old dog new tricks."

"I beg to differ." She smiled widely and walked over to her, setting a bag in her lap to reach up and stroke her hair. Rosita dropped her head so Tara couldn't see her face, so Tara pushed hair back behind her ear to reveal her temple, where she placed a soft kiss. She heard her inhale sharply, a shudder intertwined with air, and Tara's heart ached. She kissed the top of her head and smoothed her hair down.

"Well, if it doesn't immediately burst into flames, that is."

Rosita chuckled weakly and blinked back the tears. "I'll get the fire extinguisher ready."

"I'll try the stove top. If it doesn't work, we're going up to your roof to grill."

"Do you have any idea how cold it is up there?"

"Because I just walked through a warm paradise to get us a healthy meal."

She smiled a little and grasped the handles on the bag. "All right. Thank you. I appreciate it. Or I appreciate the gesture when my oven coughs in our faces."

"You should. I happen to be a decent cook. I've eaten a lot."

"Well, you should open your own restaurant then."

"I just might." She strolled into the kitchen and unpacked her bags. "Maybe the law enforcement path has run its course, and it's time for Tara's Kitchen."

"I'll never eat there." She entered the kitchen and set her bag on the table in corner of the room. "I'd never forgive you for leaving the force."

"I'm a murder cop for life. You're stuck with me, Espinosa."

She forced a smile. _I wish_. "Just fire up the oven. I was starving before you left."

"You only wine and cookies here."

"I have menus."

"You need protein and vitamins and nutrition."

"Why? I'm not pregnant."

"But I want you to be healthy and have a long life. I don't want you to poop out at fifty, and we get some new young asshole in our unit. I'd never forgive you."

"Yes, ma'am." She saluted.

"Ha ha ha." She dryly replied then checked the oven before turning it on to preheat. "No smoke yet."

"Yet."

Tara gazed at her and turned to face her. "So, what's wrong with you?"

Rosita blinked and instantly went defensive. "Nothing's wrong."

"I'm not stupid. I saw you when I came in. You were upset. Really upset." She searched her eyes. "Why?"

"I had an eyelash in my eye. It's nothing." She pulled out a bright smile. "Let's just cook. I'm seriously starving." She spun around to dig through the bag she'd placed on the table and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Rosita," Tara gently prodded, "tell me what's wrong."

"It's nothing, Tara," she whispered. "Honestly."

"It's not. It's something." Her lips formed a downward line. "Why can't you trust me with this?"

"I do trust you, but this has nothing to do with you."

"It does," Tara retorted. "I care about you. I love you. You know that. Why are you shutting me out?"

The tears from earlier returned, and she couldn't keep them at bay. "Don't say that."

"Say what? The truth?"

"Yes. It makes things so much harder to know you care. You shouldn't."

"I've cared about you since we were rookies. You're not—I'm not going to stop that easy."

"And why not? What I'm doing... I'm awful."

"What you're doing?" Her frown deepened. "What are you talking about?"

"I was right about this... I knew I would be in the end, but I didn't want to be. I didn't want to ruin it, but we'd already been ruined. I should have realized it before this went on too long."

"You don't get to decide what's ruined," Tara shot back. "At least not alone."

"Tara—"

"No! You don't get to have the final say. You haven't even talked to me about this, so talk to me. Don't just shut me out. Talk. Right now."

She faced her. "You deserve—"

"Don't start this by telling me what I deserve. I know what I deserve, and nobody gets to decide that for me. Not even you."

She inhaled. "Then maybe I deserve less."

"What?"

"Look, you want all of that white picket fence garbage, and I don't. It's as simple as that."

"It's as simple as what? One sentence with a conjunction?" She scoffed. "It's not that simple! It couldn't be that simple."

"And why couldn't it be?"

"I just told you why. This isn't just about you. It hasn't been since that horrible night we took Carol out to that club. This is you and me, and if you're going to end this, I'd like to have a chance."

"A chance to what?"

"Fight!" she shouted. "I'm not going to just sit down and swallow whatever you tell me. You best be prepared for me to fight, gorgeous, because that's who I am. I meant what I said to you. I care, and that doesn't go away easy. We're in this—whatever it is—through all of your fears and anxieties...and mine. We only get through this together."

"And if I don't want to get through this? If I want out?"

"Then okay. I can't force you to stay if you don't want to, but I know you better than that." Brown eyes seared into black eyes. "You don't want out."

"Maybe you don't know me so well."

"Maybe you don't know yourself so well. I struggle with myself all the time, and I know my insecurities. Do you? Because one is showing itself right now. It's not chasing me off either."

Her dark eyes shimmered under the soft lightening. "You're an idiot."

"I might be, but what does that make you?" Tara smiled at her, amused. "The girlfriend of an idiot?"

She tensed. "What?"

"You don't need to worry about me in the way that you're worrying about me." She stepped closer. "I know what I want, and how I get there is up to me, okay?"

She snuffled. "We weren't supposed to do this."

"We weren't supposed to do a lot of things, but we did, and here we are." She reached out and grasped Rosita's hand. "I don't want to spook you, but I don't want to end this where we are right now. I don't want you hurting either, so if you really think this will help...I'll leave. I'll go home, and we'll pretend this never happened. The last few months were just momentary insanity, and we'll forget about it."

"You'd do that?"

"I would. I wouldn't like it, but I'd do it."

Rosita began to cry, and it wasn't because of her panic. It wasn't because of her at all. It was because of the woman in front of her. She was ready to plunge into pain, because it might help her feel better. She was going to do the thing she didn't want to do for Rosita. That was the kind of person Tara was, and honestly it was the reason Rosita was so scared of this. Their relationship, this new level of honesty, this closeness. Her...feelings. She wasn't one to run away, but that was exactly what she was trying to do. And she needed to stop. There was no running. There couldn't be. She'd came to edge and stepped off. There was no way to return to where she was—to where they were—before, so...she just needed to learn how to fall.

She wrapped her arms around Tara. "I don't want that." She cradled the back of her head. "I really don't."

Tara sighed. "You don't?"

"No." She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I just..."

"I know." She embraced her. "I get it, but...be more careful, please. I don't know if I can always take it."

She buried her face in her shoulder. "It won't happen again."

Tara smoothed down her hair and smiled. "Good." Because honestly her heart couldn't take it. Not tonight, not any night. Not anymore.

– – –

That was the first night in a long time that Rosita had felt she'd made love with someone. It wasn't just sex. It wasn't just two "friends". It was something more. Something real. She couldn't explain it, but Tara's lips left more than just a tingle on hers. It was as if her kisses left her heart just as swollen and just as longing for more. It was terrifying, to be honest, but being with her meant more to her than any fear.

Especially being with her after, talking and laughing and holding hands. She didn't know how good it felt to laugh with someone about what happened last year at the Halloween party after having incredible sex. She didn't know how phenomenal it could be to lace her fingers through someone one else's and giggle about how they didn't fit well, or her fingers weren't in the right spot. She didn't know how good happy could feel with someone else, because this was the type of happiness brought on by someone else. She hadn't let anyone close enough to have their presence affect her like this. She'd honestly...missed it.

"I hope you like steak jerky, 'cause I'm pretty sure that's what we're having. With, like overcooked rice and veggies." Tara pushed hair back from her face.

"I'm starving. I don't even care." She rolled onto her side. "I'll make the plates." She kissed her and stood up, slipping into her robe.

"I'll find some wine. It shouldn't be too hard."

"No, stay in bed. I'll be right back."

"Fine, but this has nothing to do with the fact that I can't feel my legs," she mused, and Rosita laughed. "I should call Carol, see how she is."

"Good idea. Tell her I want to see her soon, okay? Maybe coffee tomorrow morning."

"That's a great idea. We could take her out. It'd keep her mind off things. Or it'd be an effort towards taking her mind off things." Tara dug out her cell phone to call Carol as Rosita glided into the kitchen to prepare their slightly...er, overcooked dinner.

But nobody picked up. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. Tara left a message for Carol to call her as soon as she could, and she glared at her phone when she ended the message. She hoped Carol was all right. She hadn't spoken to her to see how her meeting with Jones went, but she hoped well. She really wished Jones was the bar, not the shark from IAB who could ruin Carol's career if she said the wrong thing.

"Any word?" Rosita returned with two plates.

"I left her a message." She accepted the plate. "Thanks."

She pulled out a bottle of wine from her robe pocket and two cups from the other, and Tara chuckled, wondering if she picked that robe for this exact purpose. "Don't laugh. I can sneak popcorn into movie theaters in this bad boy."

"Of all things for you to do in that robe, that's what you think of first?"

"What can I say? I like the movies. I like going to the old movies they play now and then, because hardly anyone goes, so it's...peaceful. I love it." She filled the cups. "I used to work in a movie theater. It's how I paid for my prom dress. My mother wanted nothing to do with it, so I got a job and worked my ass off."

"How much was the dress?"

"Well, it was the dress, my hair, new jewelry and shoes," she explained. "I...wanted the whole experience, and it was worth it. I had a great time. We took a lot of pictures. I broke the heel of my new shoes dancing so much. I brought backup shoes, so I wasn't too angry."

"Your new shoes broke? And you weren't upset?"

"They were on clearance, and I'm pretty sure my cousin stole the actual shoes I bought and replaced them with ones she had like them. I paid her back by taking her boyfriend the next month."

"That's terrible."

"I didn't make him do it."

"Rosita."

She smiled. "We only made out. I did like him, and she was a bitch. He deserved better."

"Did he get better?"

She nodded. "He married his high school sweetheart a couple years ago. He sent me an invite, but I thought it'd be weird. Plus I'm not big on weddings. I only went to Aaron and Eric's because I love them so much, and I had to see it."

"It was a beautiful wedding."

"Beautiful couple." She crossed her legs. "I hope the next wedding we go to has a less dramatic end."

"I know, right? Like let's just throw flower petals and hug good bye then hit up Jones' for a pint."

"It's a deal. The next wedding we attend is gonna end at Jones', just the two of us. Maybe Carol—unless it's her wedding."

Tara smiled a little sadly. "Always kinda thought she'd be Mrs. Carol Walsh. It's...weird that she won't be, you know? It's been months, but the second you said that...it popped up in my head."

"A lot of things have changed," she said, "and not all for the worst. That had to be one of them."

"I'll say for sure when I sit down with Daryl and ask him what his intentions are with Carol. I want to get to know the guy, but it's been one date and then the bomb and now... I dunno, but if it becomes serious, she better tell me or let me meet the guy."

"Isn't that a little hypocritical?"

"What do you mean?"

"We haven't even told her about us."

"We're not... She knows you, Rosita. You're her best friend. We don't know Daryl, or what he'll do to her or want from her. We knew Shane, and that prick broke her heart. I don't want that to happen again. I don't think she could take it right now, to be honest." She moistened her lips. "And when the time's right, I'll let her know about us. We'll tell her and the others. Whenever you're ready."

"I'm not ready. I like it just being the two of us, but...I'll let you know."

Tara wanted to ask one particular question but held her tongue. They'd just taken a huge step today, and Rosita's walls were down. She didn't want to send them shooting back up with reinforced bricks. She'd swallow her question until the time was right. Until then the words would have to die down in her throat.

 _Are we serious now?_

– – –

Daryl drank a cup of coffee the next morning, watching snow begin to fall just outside his window, and he sat in the sill in the living room. The icy air bled through the glass, but he didn't care. His other sitting arrangement was currently not an option, and the cold didn't bug him. He'd rather feel the cold of winter than the cold of some of his thoughts and memories.

A knock on the door caught his attention, he hopped up and jogged over to answer it, and he found his best friend on the other side. He didn't want to invite him in, but after knowing him since he was fifteen, his friend knew better than to ask. He just did, which worked well for him. Carol liked his taste in decorations, and they were his tastes, but Paul was the one to throw them all together in the specific way it was now.

"Hey, I brought breakfast."

"Jesus...do you know what time is it?"

"It's seven, and you're awake, so I'm not disturbing anybody." He set the white bag on the counter and his eyes immediately fell to the boots by the couch. "Or am I?"

Daryl closed the door. "I had company last night."

"Company...or _company_?" He arched a brow at him, hand on the counter as a sharp and entirely judgmental glower crossed his eyes.

"What's with that look?"

"I thought you were seeing someone, not paying someone to see you."

"I am seeing someone. It's her. She came over, and she fell asleep on my couch. I didn't want to wake her."

"You could have at least moved her into her bed."

"I didn't want to disturb her. She's been through a lot." They had an intense conversation last night. She talked about what happened when that fucker had her held captive. She had to let it out, and he didn't fully understand how it could hurt her later on, he didn't care. He'd keep it to himself. He wouldn't damage her or her career, because she needed someone to talk to. And he liked knowing she trusted him enough to talk to him about that type of thing with. They had been out on one date, and she trusted him that much.

Jesus narrowed his eyes at him and smirked. "Are you already in love with her?"

"What? No. Don't be ridiculous."

"But you do like her. A lot." His smirked shifted into a smile. "I'm glad. I thought I'd have to set you up with my cousin."

"Don't you have a job to go to?"

"Someone's touchy today." He chuckled. "Why don't you eat a biscuit and wake her up? I brought extra."

"Did Merle tell you I had company?"

"No, but I hoped." He pushed off the counter. "She's cute."

"You don't even know what she looks like."

"That's what you think." He opened the front door. "Don't screw this up. I like having my Saturday nights, and spending them with you in Jones is starting to make me look like an old married guy."

He would have glared, but he agreed with him. "I ain't gonna screw it up. Or I'll try not to."

"Good. Get her some coffee, too. Pretty sure she's been awake this entire time."

Daryl spun around to find Carol waving at Jesus from the couch with a shy and thoroughly embarrassed smile on her lips.

"We'll meet later," Paul told her with a polite smile. "I'm running late, but why don't we go out Saturday?"

"What?" Daryl turned back to him. "We?"

"You, her, me and my guy." He elaborated. "Maybe when we part ways, you two can come back here and have...a talk. Talks are great. You'll learn a lot about each other."

"Don't plan how this date's gonna end," Daryl interrupted him.

"Good, so it is a date. I'll see you on Saturday at eight. Dress causally." He flashed a grin to Carol and sped off before Daryl could say or do anything.

"Asshole!" Daryl called after him.

Carol giggled. "He seems like a nice guy." She rested her chin on the back of the couch. "I can't wait for Saturday."

"You don't have to come."

"You don't want me to meet your friends?"

He wanted to kill Paul. He knew this would play out like this. Fucking asshole. He wasn't ready to introduce Carol to Paul, because Merle would want to meet her, and he didn't want to open that can of worms. She lied about being with Tara, and Daryl didn't want his brother to hit on someone he really liked—again.

"It's okay if you don't want me too." She pushed herself up and overlapped her arms on the back of the couch. "We haven't been on a second date, so I get it."

"I consider last night a date," he confessed.

"You do?" She bit her bottom lip.

"Well, yeah. I mean, we didn't go out or anythin', but...yeah." He studied her as she smiled at him, clearly agreeing with him, and he crossed over to her. He wanted to be spontaneous and just go for it, but he didn't want to freak her out at the same time. He wanted this to work, because Paul was right. He did like her. A lot. He wanted to take it slow, but...when she was sitting there on his couch, her red curls all mussed, her eyes sparkling with joy, her scarlet lips caught between her teeth...he couldn't keep the urge back.

He leaned down, her breathing stopped, and his lips met hers. Her lips were chapped and a little rough from the cold air, so he raised her chin up and brushed his tongue over her bottom lip. She shuddered at that, her arms moving around his shoulders, and she pulled him closer. He was surprised, but encouraged. It was difficult to discern from his pounding heart beat and his blood practically screaming in his body. He'd never been one to make the first move like this, but he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to taste her, and he didn't regret it. She was heady, like a finely aged whiskey, and her lips were softer now. She tasted faintly of honey lemon, and he wasn't sure why that was, but he wasn't really thinking much of anything.

Her fingers weaved through his soft hair, her mouth following his, and she caught his chin when his tongue parted her lips. She moaned hungrily against his lips, and it suddenly occurred to her how long it'd been since she'd kissed someone she cared about. It felt amazing, soft and sweet. He was kissing her so gently and so forcefully at the same time, and God she loved it. This sudden burst of wanting her...

"Ow!" She winced.

"I'm sorry." He instantly moved away.

She shook her head. "It's okay." He didn't look so sure, so she reached out and grasped his hips. "You just pulled on a knot in my hair, Daryl. It's okay."

"You're sure? I didn't meant to hurt you." He moved his hand carefully over her hair.

"I'm sure." She smiled at him. "Good morning."

"Good morning." He still felt guilty, and he didn't know how to make it up to her. Maybe with food. "You hungry?"

"Actually, yes." She released his hips and stood up. "Um...your friend mentioned breakfast? It smells really good."

"It's on the counter." He backed up to the kitchen. "Do you want coffee too? I made some."

"Umm." She opened the bag to find an actual meal inside two plastic takeout containers. "Could I have some milk instead?"

"Yeah." He was about to get it himself, but he felt his phone vibrating against his leg, so he pointed to the cabinet behind her. "Glasses are up there. Make yourself at home, okay?"

"Are you sure?" She was hesitant.

He strolled up to her and kissed her. "I'm sure."

She couldn't stop smiling, and she moved away to get a glass. "Thanks."

He excused himself to his bedroom and checked to see who the call was from, finding a familiar number on the screen, and he cursed. He should have picked up sooner, but he couldn't. Not with Carol here. He didn't want her to know about this. He wasn't positive he was allowed to let anybody know about this. He'd have to call her back when Carol left. He didn't want her to leave, but this was important, so she had to leave. Not now, though. He had an hour or so before she called again, and he would spend that time with her.

His phone buzzed again with a text from Paul, and he rolled his eyes.

 _Okay, so jk on that date. I just got offered a seven-month contract, and the pay is... just so many zeros. I'll make time for you guys, you know, if it works out, I will slip away in February to meet her._

 _Asshole,_ he thought to himself but smirked. Good. He would need that time. If this went anywhere, he would definitely want Paul's opinion, and even if he didn't, he would get them.

She waited until he was out of the room before she brought her hand to her lips, tracing her tongue over her bottom lip. She glanced up when he came back, setting the cup of milk on the counter, and he handed her a fork for her meal, asking her about her thoughts on Saturday. She was answering, but her mind was still replaying that kiss. It was her first kiss in three years, and all she could think was: hot damn.


	20. Fan Mail

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

She'd spent too much time with Tara, and she knew that, but...hot damn. He was actually delicious. He wasn't a food. She knew that, but he was. He let her crash at his place. He said to make herself at home here, and he was sharing breakfast with her. He was such a gentle man and a gentlemen. And he was hers.

 _Not exclusively,_ a cruel voice reminded her.

They hadn't talk about that, and she wasn't ready to talk about it. Yet the thought of him being with someone else, of kissing someone other woman the same way he'd just kissed her made her feel sick. They had barely need on two dates. How could she ask him to see only her? How could she ask that of him when she wasn't entirely sure she was out of love with her ex? It could just be the memory of love, or it could be actual love. She wasn't sure, but she damn well needed to be before Saturday, before she asked anything of him.

"Here." He gestured to the counter behind her. "You can sit up here. I don't care. I do it all the time."

"I'm good with standing. I need to stretch my legs out anyway."

He nodded. "So, how'd you sleep?"

"Pretty well, actually." She poured the little package of syrup over her stack of mini pancakes. "Thank you for letting me stay over."

"I liked talking with you," he admitted. "I'm...happy you wanted to stay over."

"I kind of passed out on your couch." She was blushing, and it was adorable to him.

"I kinda talked you to death first."

"No, you didn't. You were...great." She sucked syrup off her finger. "I really appreciate...what you did for me last night."

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Listen to your nightmares? Try and make 'em a little easier to bear?"

"Supposed to do?" She lowered her hand to the counter. "As what?"

"Your...boyfriend." He felt stupid saying it out loud. Boyfriend seemed to fit in high school and your early twenties, but not so much right now in his late twenties. There just wasn't any other world he could think of in its place. It'd probably come to him later.

"So, you want that?" Her heart was racing more now than when they were kissing. "To be together? Exclusively?"

"Wait, we weren't before?"

She smiled. "No, but...I'm not really a two guy kind of person."

"Yeah, me neither. I can't even find the one." She laughed, and he smiled at her. "Would you be my girlfriend? Exclusively my girlfriend?"

"Let me think on it."

"Seriously?"

She nodded, and before he could argue with her, her phone rang. She knew it was Boss and hurried to answer it. He was vague, but he wanted her in the office right now. She wanted to know more, but he'd already hung up. She frowned and gathered her things, explaining to Daryl what was going on, and he looked rather disappointed. It was about her leaving and the unanswered question.

"You should take this with you." He pushed the container of food towards her. "You need to eat."

"Thank you." She accepted it on her way out. She placed the container in the front seat of her car then smirked and applied lip balm to her lips then headed back inside, finding the door unlocked. She slipped inside and kissed him before he could even respond. "Yes."

He was confused, but he knew what she was saying yes to. "Really?"

"Uh-huh." She cupped the back of his neck and kissed him again. "I really do have to go, though."

"Okay." He caught her lips once more, tasting the strawberry on her lips, and he had to fight the urge to pin her against the counter and just attack her mouth until neither of them couldn't think straight.

"Daryl, please." She pulled back. "I'm not that kind of girl."

He chuckled. "Your boss is waiting anyway."

"He is." She inhaled and slipped away. "I'll call you tonight."

"Just drop by tonight."

"You sure?"

"I'm positive."

"Good, because I want to do more of this." She stole one final kiss and ducked out. She already had bed head, and she'd have to explain that to her teammate. Maybe. If she was lucky, it only involved her. Maybe Jones didn't like her statement. It was the truth, and the only reason he didn't like it was if he didn't like her. Boss wouldn't let that stand. Would he?

She pulled her hair into a bun and tucked it underneath her beanie on her way inside the building, seeing no one else lurking inside, and she found only Rosita and Boss in the bullpen. She hurried over, panicked that there friends might have been captured by some sicko now. She didn't want to know what kind of freaks this bomb threat shook out.

"Calm down, Carol. There's no fire." Rosita snickered at her. "Nice clothes."

She flushed. "I thought it was urgent. I didn't have time to change."

"It's just Boss's early morning tone. It always sounds like there's a shooter in the building." Rosita tucked hair behind her ear. "Right, Ty?"

He ignored her. "I just wanted to let you know that some mail has arrived here for you. We don't have any place to store it, so I wanted to let you know. We'll likely receive plenty more, so why don't you take these? We'll need the room for when more arrives."

"Mail?" Carol crossed her arms. "Fan mail?"

"Yes, it would seem you two attracted a following." He smirked. "A couple even sent some candy."

"No, thanks." Carol turned to walk away.

"Carol, stop." His tone left little room to argue. "These people took time to write and thank you. Don't you think that deserve to at least be read?"

"I didn't do anything but kill a guy. Rosita can take them. She likes applause."

"I don't want them either," Rosita snapped back. "But thanks."

"C'mon, guys, it's just a bunch of letters." This came from Tara who emerged from the break room with coffee. "What's the worst thing that can happen? Just read a few. They're sweet."

"You've read them?" Rosita narrowed her eyes. "Why?"

"I was curious to see who was admiring my best friends now." She shrugged a shoulder. "Some of the kids send pics of their animals, thanking you for saving them too."

"I don't want to read thanks and gratitude from strangers who don't know the real cost of my actions." Carol shook her head. "I'm sorry, but no. I'm going home to shower. I'll talk to you later."

She was gone, Rosita wanted to follow, but Boss had that look that told her one of them was going to read those letters. She sighed and joined Tara to find two massive plastic tubs filled with letters and gifts and candy. She groaned and sat down to prepare herself for this. She couldn't read all of these letters. There was just no way. Maybe half, but she wasn't going to read all of them, certainly not Carol's share.

"I'll let you to read. I have some paperwork of my own to attend to." He headed back into his office.

"Great." Rosita propped her feet up on the table. "Why did you do this? I told you we should have just stayed in bed."

"Because it's Boss. He would have come looking for us, and I doubt he would have liked what position we were in this morning."

"He's a guy, right? You never know."

"Gross. He's like the dad around here."

"I hate this. I don't want people to thank me for being stupid."

"Well, get used to it. A lot of people thank idiots. At least you were being an idiot in a good way." She met her eyes. "People are grateful to you, Rosita. That won't change until something major happens, all right? Your face is the face of PPD right now, so...adjust. I know it stinks for you, but it's good for us. We take a lot of shit. It's...about time we're in the right light again."

"I just don't get why Carol isn't up there with me."

"Because she hides well." Too well, in Tara's opinion, but there was nothing she could do about that. It helped her as a child, and even now as an adult. Tara just hoped it didn't hurt her. A skill like that eventually would.

––

Carol showered and changed into clean clothes, checking her emails and pacing the living room while waiting for it to appear. It normally did at the beginning of the month, and she'd avoided reading the letter every time it popped up. She simply couldn't handle it. She wasn't in the right head space, and then too much time had passed, so she felt answering after so much time had passed would be an asshole move. She wanted to wait until the next one came. She'd missed the last two due to work, so she hoped she knew that. She had to know that. She had to—

Her phone pinged, and she stopped moving, seeing the name she'd longed to see, and she smiled, flicking it open. She dropped onto the couch and read over the email.

 _Hey, sweetie. It's me. I know you've been busy with work. I know all about how dangerous and vital your job is, and it consumes a lot of your time. And I know you've been going through a hard time. I know you two didn't work out, but I'm here for you. I'm always going to be here for you. You know that. You don't have to feel awkward contacting me. We're friends. You're practically like family to me, a ring on your finger or not. You're welcome in my house any time, angel. Just don't tell you-know-who. He thinks I'm on his side. Men, am I right?_

She giggled and bit her bottom lip.

 _Take care of yourself, Carol. And call. Pick up the phone and call me. I'm an old woman. I need to be amused and entertained. I miss your calls. Just because one relationship ended doesn't mean two have too, right? So call._

She loved Aunt Jean. She adored her with every inch of her heart. God, that woman was like the mother she never had, and she couldn't wait to talk to her. She had avoided her, because she wasn't sure she could show her face in her home. She and Shane's other aunt always talked, even before she and Shane were dating, so Carol didn't feel any worry about talking to her or eating at her deli, but Aunt Jean? She and Carol only met through Shane, and Shane was their only common bond.

Or so Carol thought. Apparently Aunt Jean loved Carol just as much as Carol loved her. Oh, she was so happy. She was going to drive out and see her today. She knew Shane would be at work or at home, and he wouldn't visit her at this random hour during the week. She didn't have to worry about running into him. This was amazing. She couldn't wait to see her and gush about her new boyfriend. She knew Aunt Jean wouldn't make her feel lousy for dating again, and she wouldn't try and push her back with Shane. And Carol needed to gush. Tara was never home anymore, so she'd have to turn to another friend with the boys out of town—or in town with family. She didn't want to disturb them, so she was off to visit Jean. She was so excited.

She changed out of her home clothes and into jeans and a sweater, tossing on a coat, a scarf and a beanie. She found her snow boots and packed a few snacks for the ride. She might not be able to stop by Daryl's tonight, but she'd stop by in the morning before work. Boss couldn't give them the week off, although if he did, she would have to spend it with Jean. And Daryl. Mostly Jean. _Sorry, Daryl, but I haven't seen this woman in months, and I love her so much._ She was fond of Daryl, but it'd been one...er, two dates. That wasn't enough for love. Although if things up kept this way...maybe.

She headed out and nearly ran into someone who was coming to her apartment. "I'm so sorry." She stumbled back and found herself face to face with her ex. "Shane?"

"Do we really look that much alike?" He pulled the beanie up more.

"Manuel?" She exhaled. "Oh, you bastard. You nearly killed me!"

He chuckled. "Kind of the point. You didn't say goodbye to me. I had to pay you back. I borrow some of his old clothes."

She smacked him. "I hate you."

"I love you too, cutie." He smirked. "So, where are you off to? I thought we could grab lunch."

"I can't. I'm going to drive over and see Jean."

"Jean? Jean Walsh? Shane's aunt?"

She nodded with a big grin on her face. "I can't wait to see her. I was so afraid she hated me, because she thought I broke his heart, but she doesn't. She emailed me today, and I have to see her. I have talk to her. She's like the mom I never had, and I want to repair that relationship. I can't lose her too."

He nodded. "You're close?"

"Well, yeah, I just said so. She's like my mom."

"Birth, or...how a mom should be?"

She swallowed and averted her gaze, her smile long gone. "Don't mention that to me."

"Sorry, I was just trying to clarify." He sighed softly. "I didn't mean to kill your good mood. You know that."

"Well, I should be going." She tried to brush by him, but he caught her arm. "What, Manny?"

"I need to talk to you."

"About how you tried to kill a witness? About how you lied to me about Shane?" she snapped. "You had plenty of chances to talk to me, and you didn't take them. I'm leaving. I have nothing to say to you right now."

"It's important. It's about—"

"I have to meet Jean then stop by my boyfriend's. I don't have time for what you think is important. That may be rude, but after letting you walk on me for the last couple of years, I think I'm allow that. Goodbye, Manuel. Have a safe trip back to D.C." She turned on her heel and hurried out of the building.

He blew out a sigh and dug his phone out, dialing the number he hoped to be dialing with good news, but after their last encounter, it was no surprise. She only turned to him for comfort, because he knew her secret. Him and only him. Guess grief only lasted so long.

"How'd it go? Is she comin'?" There was nervous excitement in his voice, and Manny felt a rock lodge in his throat. "Manuel?"

"No, no. She ain't coming, man. She...and I hit a rough patch on the case we were working. She won't talk to me. Sorry, I thought... Well, it doesn't matter. She won't listen to me. It's up to you, Shane. If you want to talk to her, you'll have to seek her out yourself. I hope it ends better than my attempt."

It was his turn to sigh. "I see. I was tryin' to avoid that, but all right. I'll go and see her myself. Thanks for trying, man."

"I owed you."

He chuckled. "Lair."

"Well, now you owe me, so." He chuckled. "That isn't a lie. And I could use a date."

"Oh, right, you like my cousin. I forgot about that. Ew."

"Are going to set us up, or what?"

"Fine, but if he says no, it's not my fault. Nor was it all the stories I told him about you."

"Oh, you prick."

Shane chuckled. "I am, and I'll talk to him." He paused. "How is she? I mean, how did she seem?"

"Happy," he honestly replied. "Really happy. She's...er, going shopping with friends. But uh, I think she's gotten over your relationship. She has a boyfriend."

"I see."

There was a long pause, Manuel spoke his name to see if he was still on the line, and he was, but he was about to hang up on him.

"Shane?"

"I have to go. I'll talk to you later. And again, thanks for that."

"Don't be stupid."

"Goodbye, Manuel."

He was already tried of that sign off. It was obvious to tell they dated for three years. Shit. They had the same cold tone when they were done talking to someone they weren't thrilled with. Oh, well, Shane would get over it. It wasn't like he'd drive over and see his aunt too. He didn't go to her for advise, right?

"Oh, shit." He dragged a hand through his hair. Well, he might see Carol anyway then he would be pissed at Manuel for lying. Oh, well, there was nothing he could do. Carol wouldn't answer his calls, and Shane wasn't in the mood to talk to him, so it was out of his hands. Maybe it was fate. They'd meet, work it out and fall back in love. Or, more realistically, they'd meet, she's smack the shit out of him and storm off.

But again, it was out of his hands, and fate was definitely not in his control.

– – –

"Aww, he drew a picture of his kitty." Tara showed Rosita the letter from the five year old who was grateful Rosita disabled the bomb. "He says thanks a whole bunch."

"Great." She tossed a letter aside and reached for one of Carol's. "I'm tired of being thanked. Let's see who's thanking Carol."

"You're such a party pooper. Why can't you just be a little grateful? I know you did it blindly and out of stupidity, but it's still—"

"Tara, I don't want to be thanked for acting blindly and being stupid and reckless. I want to be thanked, because I used my training. Because I deserve it. I didn't deserve this. I just got lucky."

"Half of being alive is lucky. Lucky your parents met, lucky they had you, lucky you picked this path. You can't control that. It's just the way it is. Be happy it didn't backfire, and we're not having this conversation in hell."

"Oh, we're going to hell now?"

"Maybe just me, but my younger days were pretty dark." She smirked, though there was truth to that statement. "And I'm glad you acted blindly and recklessly. I'm glad we're both still here." She reached out and caressed Rosita's cheek. "I'm glad I can do this." She leaned over to kiss her.

"Tara." She moved back. "Please, we're in the office."

"So? No one else is here. Boss left an hour ago."

"It's the office," she emphasized. "I don't want our relationship to spill over into work. Even if we're alone and not working. I want to have boundaries here."

She sighed. "Okay." She stood up and moved around to the other side of the table to see what other letters there were, sitting on the floor to sift through them. She was only slightly hurt by the brush off. She wouldn't sit and lick her wounds. She was curious to see who was thankful to Carol.

Rosita felt bad, but she didn't want anyone to walk in on them. She hated relationships being out in the open, because it was real then, and people want to give their opinion and advise. It always shitty advise, and she didn't want to hear. She also didn't want to be pulled into Boss's office again, because he caught wind of their relationship. They weren't partners, but there might be rules against this kind of thing. She didn't want to find out. She wanted to...be happy, and she was happy, and she didn't want that to come crumbling down. She wanted to hold onto it for as long as possible.

Yet with Tara on the floor away from her, she didn't feel too happy. She didn't have the energy to explain it all to Tara, and she had hoped Tara just got it, but apparently not. Any laud was great according to her. Or maybe she was just trying to cheer Rosita up. She wasn't sure. She was a little tired and grouchy, and she didn't want to be here to read these amazing and thoughtful letters. They made her feel guilty, like she should give a statement and explain how it was just blind luck. She knew nobody would believe her, or it'd backfire on her and ruin the "good light" shining on PPD. She didn't want to do, so she might as well just suck it up.

And force Carol to suck it up with her.

"Huh." She spotted a pretty letter in her pile and reached for it. It was on delicate pearl white paper with embossed gold writing on it. She turned it over and carefully peeled off the wax seal on the back. She was impressed and amused, and she read over the writing. The words were overly solicitous, gushing even, and she was beyond flattered by this person's words. She didn't understand how she could have done so much to make anyone so grateful, but...she was coming around to the mindset Tara and Boss wanted her to be in while reading these.

"Hey, Tara." She hopped up and sat beside her. "Read this."

Tara dropped the lid to the candy Carol had been sent and licked chocolate off her finger. "Read it to me. I'm a little sticky."

She chuckled and wiped a chuck of caramel off her cheek. "We're not supposed to sample."

"I'm her best friend. Like she'll mind."

She shook her head. "Just keep it clean, Chambler. I don't want to be licking chocolate off you later."

Tara thought about that. "Why not?"

"Because I'm out of whipped cream."

Tara blinked and saw she was serious. "Wait, what would you do with whipped cream?"

"We could find out. Aaron uses it for his hot chocolate." She peeked at her girlfriend, seductively smirking at her.

"I thought you wanted boundaries."

"Yeah, but I've always kinda wanted to do it in the interview room."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, I'm serious. I think it's hot."

"You're weird. It's where we sweat out criminals. There's nothing hot about it."

"Yeah, but don't you think about all the ones we couldn't crack? How frustrated it made you?"

"Not sexually."

"Well, duh, but think of ways you could undo all of that frustration." She studied her. "Just...imagine it."

"God, you're so weird."

"We could pop your handcuff cherry."

"You kind of had me at the whipped cream, but you just lost me with that statement." She popped the last bit of chocolate filled caramel from the box. "So, what's up with the letter?"

"Wait, wait, wait. The whipped cream caught your attention?"

"Maybe. But so did the letter." She swiped it from her. "Wow, fancy."

"I know, right?" She scooted closer. "It's so pretty and thoughtful. If I believed in it, I'd be half in love."

The chocolate was now bitter on Tara's tongue, and she swallowed. "Me too, if I swung that way."

"What do you mean? A dude wrote this?"

"Yeah." She ran her finger under the first sentence. "You can tell by his wording. It's very...dominate. It's sweet, but kind of controlling. It's...like this guy wants you to be grateful. He's trying to...make you grateful. He seems like a distant guy, like he feels pressured, which is why this layout is so on point. I mean, it's practically flawless, but you can see the stress of certain words. He clearly expects a lot of himself."

"How do you even know this?"

"I took a couple classes to study handwriting and stuff with an FBI profiler. I thought it'd come in handy."

"That's...really cool. I don't buy it, but it's cool how...confident you sound." She smirked. "I like geeks."

"Dear God, you're like the horniest person alive."

"I am not. I was joking. I mean, I don't buy it, but you're so smart."

"Thanks, I guess."

"I mean it. You're very smart, and I'm glad you're here." She took the letter back. "There's on one else I'd rather be trapped in the office with at this hour of the afternoon."

"Thanks. I guess."

She leaned over and kissed her, resting her forehead against hers. "I'm really glad you're here."

Tara smiled. "I'll bet."

Rosita ran her fingers through hairs loose from her ponytail and smiled a little, taking a moment to enjoy the silence and the intimacy in this moment. She wanted it to last, but she knew someone would eventually walk in, or Boss would check in on them, and it couldn't. Not much that what Rosita enjoyed lasted. That was the sad part. The happy part was right now, and for right now, it was lasting. She wouldn't linger on when it ended, not right at the moment. Not ever, if possible.

– – –

She kicked the snow off her boots and climbed up the porch, knocking on the door. She was so elated to see Jean. She just wanted to sit down and talk to her and have tea. Jean loved tea. She had a beautiful set of silver and China she used. It was adorable and made Carol feel so special. Like when she played with her dolls as a kid. It reminded her of an innocent time. A time that had long since passed.

The door opened to reveal Shane's aunt, and Carol greeted her with a tight hug. She was so happy to see her, and Jean was so thrilled to have Carol over. Carol knew Jean rarely had company, and since Shane and Carol broke up, she had even less. And Carol knew she liked her company. She hoped anyway. She always appeared thrilled to see her, so maybe she was like the daughter she never had.

Jean prepared the tea in the kitchen, and Carol wandered the house for old times sake. She snickered at the pictures on the wall of Shane's family, of the people she considered to be family, and her heart ached at the photos Jeans had of her and Shane from Christmas or just silly random shots at family events. She'd forgotten so much. She couldn't believe it. The family BBQ four months after she was shot had been amazing. They had laughed so much.

She moved on and her eyes fell into the guest bedroom all lively with its yellow cheesecake theme. She chuckled and rested her head on the frame, biting her bottom at the joy that bubbled up there. Joy. Yeah, that's what it was.

She and Shane had slipped away from the Easter festivities, taking a bottle of champagne from the alcohol cabinet and fooling around in here for a bit. It was the first time since the shooting that they had been intimate. It felt amazing. She could remember how gentle he was, how his hands caressed her stomach and hips. It was her first time in that position, but certainly not his. It was a little easier for them that way. He didn't have to see the scar, and she didn't have to see any worry on his face. It was what they needed to get over the trauma and the distance the shooting had brought. The next time was just like always, but she had to admit she did enjoy this Easter position. She even called it that, refusing to use any other wording for it. He always got a little horny when anyone mentioned Easter after that. It was funny now. The next girl would have to deal with it.

Jean called her to let her know the tea was done, and she looked down the hall, releasing her lip. She pushed off the frame, walking away from those memories, from the Carol and Shane giggling like teenagers while doing naughty things on his great, great, great grandmother's hand-stitched quilt. She joined her in the kitchen.

"So, how are you?"

This was asked over tea. The spread was lovely, cookies and little cakes and lady fingers. Carol's favorite blue China cups. The adorable little silver spoons with designs engraved on them. It was so nice, and the lemon tea was so relaxing it had to be illegal. It was pure heaven, something Carol hadn't felt in a long time. Well...maybe it wasn't so long ago.

"I'm okay." She set her cup down. "I'm really doing fine."

"That's good. I'm glad. I was worried when Shane came to talk to me." She studied the young woman. "You look good. Healthy."

"Thanks. So do you." She smiled at her. "It's so good to see you."

"And it's so good to see you up and about. It must have been terrible. It must have felt like death."

Carol lowered her eyes. "It really did. For a long time, I didn't think I'd be okay again, that I'd...find that...connection with someone else again, but I did. I am. It's been hard, I'll admit. It might be harder still, but I'm ready for it. I'm ready to start the next part, and even that doesn't happen then it doesn't. I'll survive. I know I can."

Jean blinked a few times, but she didn't say anything about it. "Do you like the tea?"

"It's my favorite." Carol's brows furrowed. "I thought that's why you made it."

"Oh, yes, I remember."

"Jean—"

"Aunt Jean?"

Carol's blood ran cold at the sound of Shane's voice. There was no mix up there. It was his voice. She knew it well, as it was the same voice that fought with her, that whispered sweet nothings in her ear, that consoled her, that annoyed her, that said I love you so many times. It was his voice, no doubt about it, and it rooted her to that chair. She couldn't move. She couldn't flee. She couldn't even breathe.

Shane entered the dining room and came to a screeching halt at the sight of Carol. His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't breathe. Holy fuck, there she was. God, he'd forgotten how beautiful she was. Her curls were all mussed from likely wearing a beanie, her blouse was a little tight, and it hugged her delicate form, and he could tell she was wearing that red bra he liked. She only wore it when she wanted a confidence boast. Why would she need that to come and visit Jean? Unless...she was meeting someone else after.

"Shane, dear, look who came over to visit." Jean rose to kiss his cheeks, and he gave a forced laugh. "After being wounded and everything, the poor thing came to see me."

"Yeah, it—it was a lot, getting her dressed and out of bed." He moved around the table towards her. "We'll be right back. We oughta check the bandage." He helped Carol out of the chair as she was still frozen, and he practically carried her to the bathroom. He locked the door and turned to her.

"What are you doing here?" she snapped out of her trance. "And don't touch me!"

"Shh, shh." He hissed it out.

"Why? Why should I be quiet? I think I deserve—"

"Carol, she has Alzheimer's."

Her heart dropped to her knees. "What?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "I was gonna tell you, but...everything happened the way it did, and I couldn't bring myself to talk to you. I didn't think you'd come and see her. I thought... Well, I thought wrong."

"Oh, my God." She dropped onto the edge of the bathroom. "H—how bad is it?"

"It's gotten worse the last couple of weeks. She's...losin' a lot quickly."

She felt like an ice blanket had been wrapped around her heart, and her filled with tears. She hadn't been to see Jean in months, not since the breakup, and now Jean wasn't all there anymore. She didn't get to explain anything to her, or let her know how much she loved her. She didn't get to do any of that, and now Jean was losing herself...

"Hey." He sat beside her and wrapped an arm around her. "It's all right. She'll be doin' better on meds."

She whimpered and covered her hand with her mouth, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry." He pulled her closer, she buried her face in his neck, and he smoothed her hair down. "I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner."

Carol had a million things she wanted to ask about Jean, a million things she wanted to scream at him, but she couldn't get any of them out. She couldn't speak. She had just learned her mother figure of the last three years was suffering. She had no clue this was going on. She simply read the emails sent to her and went about her day. She didn't call. She didn't write back. She didn't do anything but read. Those emails were the best part of her day once, and now...the woman behind them was beginning to fade. The best woman in Carol's life wasn't going to remember her some odd days of the week, and eventually...

Shane wrapped his other arm around, his heart breaking for her and for himself all over again. He could still remember when his mom called to tell him the news. He couldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. He tried to stop it. He didn't know how he was going to stop it, but he was dead set on preventing this from happening. She was his aunt, and he loved her. He wanted her to be healthy and okay, and he wished he had done better to ensure she stayed on the path of healthy and okay. He hadn't. He stopped coming by when things ended with Carol. He stopped calling. He stopped everything and thought only of his job and himself. He'd failed so much in those months.

Shane brushed a tear from her cheek and caressed her jaw tenderly. "We're taking her to an assisted living center next week."

"What?" She lifted her head from his shoulder. "Why would you do that? She loves this house."

"My mom can't afford to stay with her. She has to work."

"Then find a live-in nurse. I'll help pay for it." She was adamant. "You can't make her leave her home. She shouldn't have to lose everything, Shane. Please, just consider it."

"You'd help?"

"Of course I would. I love her like family."

He smiled and started to lean in, but he forced himself to stop, to remember what happened months ago. He couldn't be that big of an asshole. Not to her, not right now. He stroked her cheek. "She loves you too. Very much." He gulped. "She told me...when she was lost in her memories."

Tears burned in her eyes. "This can't be happening."

"She'll be okay. She just started on the meds. She's a tough cookie. You can come and see her any time. I'm sure it'll help. You were like a daughter to her. She kept..."

"Kept what?" She searched his eyes. "What, Shane?"

"She kept hopin' we name a kid after her."

Carol suddenly remembered that last fight, that awful one-sided conversation, and she moved away from him, his hand falling from her face, leaving ice where warmth had once been. She turned her head away and shuddered.

He instantly recognized the change. "I didn't mean to find you here. I was just coming to check on her."

"So, Manuel didn't call? He didn't tell you?" She scoffed, tears still running down her cheeks, though she'd stopped crying.

"He did, but he told me you'd be out with friends. I just needed to clear my head, think about someone else. Jean helps me do that."

"I'll bet. You're just torn up over it, aren't you? Your heart is in tatters, and you don't know where to go with your life, right?" She stood up. "Oh, wait, that was me. You didn't fucking care. You didn't even wait until I got the fucking results back. You just—"

"Carol, stop." He shot up. "You don't know all the facts, okay."

"And you didn't bother explaining them to me! You just dumped me and ran! You didn't even consider what it'd do to me, that I could have been pregnant with your child. You just skipped out on me. You didn't even care, I bet. You were just using me as a cover for something. Were you cheating on me the whole time? Is that why you didn't want us living together? You didn't me to intervene on your side action? Or was I the side action?"

"No, no, it wasn't like that! I love you!"

"Evidently not! You just left me. People who love people don't just walk out on them! You just don't do that!" She was shouting, and she didn't care if Jean could hear her. "You don't fucking leave people you love, okay?"

He knew she meant him and her mom, and it broke his heart to see her like this. The red, puffy eyes, the trembling jaw, and how she was trying not to crumble. He did this. Him and her bitch of a mom, though they were now in the same slot, weren't they? They'd loved her, been so good to her for a tie time, and then they left her. They hurt her, and they tried to make it right, but it was far too late.

"Baby—"

"Don't. You don't get to call me that. Not after all this time. You just don't."

"Carol." He closed the space between them.

"You don't get to apologize. You don't to make it right. It's been nearly four months, Shane. Four months!"

"Let me try."

She was livid now, and she stormed over him, locking her gaze in his, and she was ready to fight him. Actually fist fight him or verbally fight him, she didn't care. Her breathing was elevated, her chest puffed up, her pulse racing. She was ready for a fight. There was no backing down. After four months, he wanted to try? Four months and only now because he ran into her at his aunt's house? No way was she going to try and forgive him like this.

"It's too late for you to try, Shane."

"Oh, yeah?" He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him, she jolted at the sudden motion, and he cupped her cheek, kissing her softly, as he always had.

– – –

Rosita sat on the counter in the break room, reading over the pretty embossed letter again, and she smiled to herself, lowering it to her lap. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to be in the limelight.

"Hey, babe, you ready?" Tara stood in the door.

"Yeah." She slid off the counter and greeted her with a kiss. "I'm starving. Why don't we just go out?"

"Like to a restaurant?"

"Yes, like to a restaurant. There's this little place I want to try. I don't know what it is exactly, but everything smells so good when I walk by it." She grasped her hand and laced her fingers through Tara's. "I'm feeling like wine, too. Maybe it can be our celebratory dinner."

Tara smiled. "I'd love that. What's got you in such a good mood?"

"I'm just...happy. I'm happy you're here, and I'm happy we survived that bomb. It...just sort of hit me all at one tonight. All these letters, you know?"

"It's weighty," Tara agreed, "but are you sure about going out?"

"I want to have dinner with you," Rosita stated. "Do you really want to try and stop me?"

"No. I really don't." Tara's smile only widened.

"Good. So let's go."

They made to leave the bullpen, hitting the lights on their way, thoroughly content as they strolled towards the elevator, hand in hand. They didn't notice the man in the building across from them snapping photos. They didn't notice the man whose hands were stained from ink. They didn't notice the man who noticed them, who noticed her, who wanted her. The lady of the hour, the lady in the limelight, the lady...who would soon be happy to have no one around.


	21. Confessions, Confessions

_**I posted a chapter prior to this a while back, but the site failed to sent out alerts for any updates. If you haven't read chapter twenty, read it before reading this. Or you'll be lost going forward.**_

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

 _"Shane." Carol sprung off the couch to tell him the news. "I'm so glad you're home. I've been trying to get a hold of you all day, but you're here now, so that's all that matters. So, I—"_

 _"I need to talk to you," he interrupted. "It'd easier if you just listen to what I have to say."_

 _"Okay." She folded her arms. "My news is pretty important too. Maybe I should go first."_

 _"Carol, please."_

 _"All right." She sat down. "Go ahead."_

 _"I think we should end this." He said it flatly, like when he told guys not to hit on her, or when he was talking to a perp, or when he was talking to his family when they were bugging him and Carol about grandchildren. He said it like it bugged him, as though their entire relationship had cause him such agony, as though he didn't love her, as though they hadn't just made love last night. He just...said it._

 _"W—what?" Her eyes began to pool with tears. "Why?"_

 _"I just think it's time, you know? I don't...want to be with you anymore. I know it seems out of the blue, but I've felt this way for a couple weeks now. I just don't see how this is gonna work."_

 _"Shane."_

 _"Don't get so emotional. You had to have seen this coming, too. I mean, come on, Carol. It's been like a elephant in the room for weeks now. Things just...ain't the same, ain't as good as they used to be."_

 _"So last night was...what? Just for kicks?"_

 _"Last night was just proof it ain't the same."_

 _She stared. "You can't be serious."_

 _"Why would I joke about this?"_

 _She rolled her bottom lip into between her teeth and tried to settle herself, closing her eyes and buried her face in her hand._

 _"I'll come back for my things, but...that's it. This relationship has run it's course, and I'm sorry to admit I just don't feel love for you anymore. I know it's difficult for you to hear, but it's the truth." He set his hands on his hips. "We shouldn't be in contact anymore either. I think a clean break is best for you. You're obviously upset, and I don't...want to make this harder on you."_

 _She heard him moving and shot up. "Wait. Wait, Shane, just wait."_

 _"I've waited long enough."_

 _That stopped her cold, and tears streamed down her cheeks. "Wha...what?"_

 _"Just... Goodbye, Carol." He closed the door without a second look back._

 _Carol stood there completely still, her lips parted, and hot tears ran cold on her chin. "I'm not pregnant...if you care, which you obviously don't...anymore. Or maybe you never did..." It wouldn't be the first or second or even third time someone hadn't cared about her._

 _"Carol." Tara hugged her tightly. "I'm so sorry."_

 _She crumbled. "What just happened?"_

 _Tara didn't want to list off all the ways Shane was a fucking asshole, so she only held her roommate, her partner, her best friend. It was all she could do as Carol sobbed her eyes out, and she hoped that if Shane ever tried to come into her like, Tara was there. She'd deck the shit out of him. Motherfucker._

– – –

Carol sighed and looked over at the man sleeping soundlessly beside her, his chest rising and falling, and she was sinking, sinking into guilt. She slipped out of bed, pushing messy hair out of her face, and she wrapped herself in a spare blanket at the end of the bed, shivering at the cold air that enveloped her. She trudged out of the bedroom and into the living room, the moonlight pooling in through the large windows, and she sighed again, hating herself.

It'd been days since that kiss. That familiar, soft, loving kiss. She could still remember how it felt on her lips, on her neck, on her collarbone, tracing the curves of her jaw. She could remember how his tongue would slip through and taste her flesh, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin around her belly button. He left no inch of her skin unkissed by the time they were done. Every inch of her body had felt his lips and his hands.

She closed her eyes and tried to burn the memories out of her head, but they were so fresh, so raw. There was no way she could chase them off so easily. She wished to God she could. She wished she could just be with Daryl and care about him and have it be simple. She wished she wasn't so attached to the past, to a man with whom she shared everything. She wanted to let it all go. She thought she had, but clearly she hadn't. If what happened between them was any hint, she really hadn't.

"Hey, what're you doin' up?"

She looked over at him, his hair all messy, his eyes glazed from just waking, and he looked so adorable. Her heart ached at the sight of him. "Couldn't sleep. Uh, bad dream."

He walked over to the kitchen and began to prepare something.

"What are you doing?" She hugged the blanket tighter, observing him as he pulled out a carton of milk and some type of spice.

"Just hang on." It was said laughingly, like he was being amused by an impatient child.

"Okay."

She waited while he finished preparing whatever it was he was making, and he brought over a steaming cup of the finished product. It was a warm milk with cinnamon and honey, and he'd even made himself a cup, though he didn't need it. He was worn out from what happened just hours ago. His body ached, his back was killing him. He felt older than he was, but he'd get used to it. It'd been a while, so he hoped that was what was wrong.

She reached out and blew on the steaming milk, taking a sip and wincing. "Ow."

"Hang on." He went to the fridge and pulled out an ice cube. "Here."

She parted her lips, he slipped it into her mouth, and he kissed her once it was through, surprising her. She smiled and nearly choked on the ice. She rubbed her tongue against it, soothing the throbbing burn, and he stuck her mug in the freezer for a bit, letting her chew on the ice. Once she'd swallowed it down, he pulled the now lukewarm mug out and handed it over.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He polished off his milk. "I'm ready to drop like a sack of potatoes. How about you?"

She giggled. "Not just yet. I'll meet you back in there."

"Is it the bed? 'Cause it's your first time staying over?" He chuckled softly. "Well, staying over on the actual bed, anyway."

"Maybe. I've only ever been in my bed." And Shane's. "I'm a little...wired too."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No, you're sweet, but you're exhausted. Go to bed. I'll be in there soon."

"Are you sure? If you had a nightmare—"

"Your credit as my boyfriend will not fall. You're...great, Daryl. Really, really great." She smiled at him. "I just need to clear my head is all."

He nodded and kissed her forehead. "Drink up. It helps."

"Thanks." She watched him stumble back to his bedroom, and she felt guilt sink even deeper into her heart. She touched her lips, lips that days ago had met another set that weren't Daryl, that were all too familiar, who brought up too many alarming questions. She was scared about the answers, to be honest. She didn't know what to expect, but she'd have to face the music. As soon as the sun had risen, she would face the music. She had to tell him. He deserved to know what a cheating whore his ex-girlfriend was.

She buried her face in her hand and groaned soundless. She hated the thought of being his ex. She liked him so much. She liked being his girlfriend. She liked how gentle and sweet he was. She was going to miss it. There was no way he'd take this lightly. How could anybody? She didn't kiss him back, but...she didn't pull away either, so...she might as well have. She didn't even know how to feel about the kiss. She was stuck on stupid, and it was awful. Spending the night at Daryl's, just sleeping beside him, only made her feel worse. He was too good of a guy to be with a slut like her.

She slowly drank her milk and set the empty cup in the sink by his, slinking to the bedroom. She didn't feel right sleeping next to him, so she curled up on the loveseat in the corner. He threw his clothes there when he got home, but it just made it more comfortable. It smelled like him too, and she found herself drifting off.

– – –

Rosita woke up and found Tara asleep beside her, and she smiled, carefully reaching over and pushing hair aside to reveal her face. They had been so tired after reading all that fan mail and eating that they'd just passed out at her place. She hoped Carol didn't ask why they were spending so much time together, because she didn't know how to answer. Carol was smart, and she could root out a lie like no other. Rosita figured it had to do with her childhood, with her father and mother.

Rosita could never understand a man like Ed Peletier. He wasn't a man. He wasn't even a human being. He was a worm. When you have a child with someone you married, that child should come first, should be showered with so much love it can hardly breathe, so when the bad times came as they always did, you had this force of unconditional love. It wouldn't fill stomachs or reduce stress; it wouldn't put shoes on your feet or new clothes on your body, but it meant you were alone. You had something—someone—to fight for, to improve for. That was what parenthood and family meant, what they were supposed to mean. That was what it meant in her family.

She weaved her fingers through Tara's hair, watching her sleeping face, and she leaned over, placing a kiss to her forehead. She slipped out of bed and dressed in her weekend clothes, despite it being the middle of the week, and she gathered her hair up into a ponytail. She tiptoed to the kitchen and pulled out untouched skillet she'd gotten as a housewarming gift form Boss. She tapped her fingernails on the door to her fridge and pulled it open, grinning at the sight of having everything she needed.

She had come around to the idea of the fan mail, and she'd even written a couple of the kids back. She had taken the bins home with her, and she'd given the candy to her many cousins, because she didn't need that much chocolate. She did keep a few of the stuffed animals and let Tara have the caramel pecan nut clusters. She couldn't say no after Tara had "sampled" all of Carol's nut clusters and begged silently for hers. She didn't mind sharing. Chocolate, anyway.

She stirred her batter and tightened her grip on the wooden spoon she had. After Abraham, she hated the idea of sharing someone. She knew you couldn't share someone like a candy bar, but she liked being with one person, and that one person being with her. She didn't really do relationships, but she would never do an open relationship. She especially hated those types of relationships. It wasn't even a relationship to her. It was just...a continuous fling. Other people can like it, love it, do it—good for them. For her, it wasn't...an option. No relationship was really. At least...

She blew out a sight at where that thought was heading and grabbed her i-Pod off the bookshelf, shoving in earbuds to listen to music instead of drowning in her thoughts. She just wanted to make breakfast. Those thoughts could be saved for when she'd a cup of coffee and...maybe a talk with Tara. Or her mom. She didn't know how'd she feel about this, but oh well. It couldn't be helped, and as corny as it was...the heart wanted what the heart wanted, and right now...that was to make crepes for her sleepy...Tara. Yeah, that's exactly what she wanted.

Meanwhile in the bedroom, Tara opened her eyes and drew in a long, sleepy breath. She saw the spot beside her was empty, and she reached over, feeling slight warmth there. She was too tired to call out to Rosita or to crawl out of bed to find her, so she closed her eyes and tried to wake herself up a little. She wasn't feeling it. She wanted to sleep for the next ten hours, but they did have to work today. It was a Wednesday. She hated Wednesdays. The week was nearly over, but not quite over.

Although this Wednesday was different. It was the second Wednesday of November, and it was also the second month she and Rosita had been in this not-quite-a-relationship relationship. She hadn't meant to keep track, but she had been home when Carol was looking over the credit card bill. She mentioned when she bought her Plan B. Tara's brain instantly did the math, and Tara wasn't sure if she should mention it to Rosita or not. She had a feeling she shouldn't. She might think Tara wanted to celebrate or do something to mark the day. She didn't want to. She just wanted... Well, more sleep or a nice cup of coffee. Oh, and for it not to be Wednesday. That would be great too. She could have relived that last weekend forever. She honestly had no desire to step into work. She didn't want to leave this bed, let alone this apartment.

She would, though. She needed to go home and shower and change. And to just be in her own apartment again. She hadn't seen her own bed in what felt like weeks. She was helping Rosita go through the latest batch of fan mail. It was beginning to die down. A lot was still being sent in, but not as much as the first week. Rosita seemed grateful for it. Tara was just happy to not have to open anymore letters. She had to go out and buy a letter opener for all these letters. She was sick of the paper cuts. She might have to send Aaron over to help Rosita with the fan mail. She was over it. She loved Rosita and all the praise she was getting, but she was over it. She didn't want to open her own bills now. Eech.

She curled her arm back to her chest and checked the clock on her phone. She didn't have any messages. Carol must have gone out with Daryl. She honestly had no clue if that was the case or not. She hadn't really spoken to Carol in weeks. Carol made herself scarce at the office, traveling alone most of the time, and Tara was rarely home to monitor her behavior there. She had a feeling it had to do with Manuel's surprise visit two weeks ago before he left town for good. She wondered if Carol blamed her for that drop in. She did supply him with information, but she was just trying to help him say goodbye to a friend. And Tara knew that now. They were just friends. Well, maybe not anymore, given how she was acting.

Tara needed to talk to her about that. Maybe they could go out for dinner. They could have some margaritas and just kick back and relax. They could talk about things, about their relationship, and how things are with goings on the job and off. She wanted to reconnect with her best friend. She felt like so much had come between them since the whole bomb and near death incident, since the whole Morales thing. She wanted to know what. She wanted to know what had happened. Carol had been cleared for the shooting, but she wasn't happy about it. She was miserable. Tara had to know why, so she could help. Carol was a hero, but she was acing like she was the crook, not Morales.

Tara heard a soft sizzle and her thoughts vanished. Rosita was cooking? Her eyes widened. Rosita could cook? Well, she knew she could cook, but they mostly ate out. Or Tara made something. Rosita was cooking? Right now? In her own kitchen? Was someone forcing her to cook? Tara felt very worried now. From what she'd gathered from Rosita over the past years, she didn't cook unless her hand was forced. Say, her mom and dad dropped by unannounced, and she had to whip up food while some one night stand slipped out the fire escape.

It was strange that she would be cooking right now. Tara hadn't seen her so much as lift a finger to turn on the stove. She'd seen her store empty pizza boxes in the oven until she took out her trash, but never once cook in there. Tara usually had to start the meal, and Rosita would help out, but that was mainly Tara cooking. She didn't know what had bitten Rosita, but she was curious to find out. She had to see this in person, maybe take a photo and show Carol...

Only she couldn't show Carol. She'd have to explain why she was over here this early in the morning. She couldn't explain that to her, because their relationship was a secret. It still made her ache to know nobody knew they were together, to know people still hit on Rosita and even her now and then, because they were just seen as best friends. They were still seen in the same group they'd always been seen in since their rookie days, and they weren't. They were closer. They were happier. They were stronger. They were better people, improving each other in ways they didn't know they needed improvement in. It was all hush hush, kept in the dark, because Rosita wasn't ready to take that next step. Tara didn't want to push, but she felt like she losing.

Losing her relationship with her best friend since what felt like forever and losing her relationship with her not exactly girlfriend. The closer they got, the more distance there was between her and Carol. Hell, among her and Glenn and Aaron, too. She was proud of their relationship, of how far they'd come since that first time, but she was disconnecting with her team to make progress. She didn't know them half as well as she used to, and she rarely hung out with them at Jones'. She was always working or going out with Rosita or staying over at Rosita's. They couldn't stay at Tara's, because Carol might come home and catch them. Like they were having an affair, like it was wrong and shameful...

She sighed softly and lied back down. She knew Rosita had to take this at her own pace. That was part of the deal when Tara put sex on the table. She knew she would have this conflicting emotions at one point, but she didn't know how bittersweet they would make everything seem.

"You're awake."

She shot back up to find Rosita holding two cups of coffee. "Yeah, I just woke up a minute ago."

"Here." She held out cups to her, and Tara accepted them. "I'll be right back."

Tara set the cups down on the nightstand beside her and brushed hair out of her face, and she stretched her arms. Her eyes fell on the plates Rosita was carrying, and she nearly scoffed in disbelief. There on the plates were perfectly prepared crepes, filled with fruit and whipped cream, glazed in what appeared to be chocolate. They were so pretty, but at the growl Tara's stomach released, they weren't too pretty to be devoured.

Rosita watched Tara take her first bite, and she smiled at the confusion in her eyes. It was the type of confusion that was good. Like, hey, you could cook this entire time and you didn't say anything to me type of confusion. She was happy Tara enjoyed the crepes. She would have to remember it for another time. She didn't like to cook for just anyone, but she wanted to cook for Tara. She was...really glad to have her here.

"So, how long have you been able to cook?"

"Always. I just don't always feel like it." She dipped a chopped up strawberry into the chocolate sauce. "I used to make my lunches the first year in homicide. You don't remember that?"

"I was too busy trying to adjust to everything."

"It took an entire year to do that?"

"I'd just accomplished a life goal. I was soaking it in. I still do now and then." She met Rosita's eyes. "A lot's happened since I joined the force. A lot that I hate, a lot that I can't believe has pushed down to the cold unit, and a lot that...I'm grateful for. I work with great people who I love, and Boss is pretty cool for a boss." _And then there's you...who came into my life and turned it completely upside down with friendship, and now you and I are in a relationship that has thrown that upside down world into the most wonderful chaos..._

Rosita studied her, feeling as though she had more to say, but she only ate more of her breakfast. She cleared her throat. "So, why won't we go out tonight? You, me and Carol? We haven't gone out just the three of us in so long."

"Yeah, that'd be great." She grinned. "We can either go to the club or stop by Jones'."

"But let's not get totally wasted. We do have to get back to work. It's only Wednesday."

"It's not my fault we all drank our asses off at the Halloween party."

"You put booze out as food."

"Well, nobody could decide on chips and dip or pizza or anything, so I went with wine, beer and jello shots. And also chips and dip."

"You're lucky Carol ordered some party platters and Maggie made some cupcakes."

"I know I am." She dropped her eyes to her plate. "To have you...in my life, I'm pretty lucky."

Rosita blinked. "Tara..."

She leaned over and kissed her. "Thanks for cooking for me. And good morning. I don't think I said that."

"Well, it's almost noon now."

"Well, good afternoon then."

Rosita smiled somewhat. "Good afternoon." She scrapped her fork over her remaining crepe and peeked at Tara, her smile widening. "I'm...glad you're here."

"So you keep telling me. I'm great company. I know."

"I mean it."

"I know you do." Tara met her eyes. "I'm glad to be here."

– – –

Carol tied the drawstring to her sweatpants that night, thinking over the details of their current case, or trying to. She was really thinking more on that kiss between her and Shane two weeks ago. She kept replaying it in her head and the guilt only ate at her. She didn't enjoy it. In fact all that kiss proved was she had moved on, her heart and attraction and affection were with someone else, and what she felt for Shane was in the past. She could truly move forward now, but not until she told Daryl what happened between her and her ex.

Daryl was in the living room, fiddling with the remote as Carol changed out of her work clothes, and he didn't know why she had invited him over. They had spent last night together, although he woke up to a note. She had to leave for work. He was happy to spend time with her, but he didn't like the tone in her voice when she invited him over. He was worried about her and about what could have happened at work. She was held hostage a couple weeks ago, and he didn't want to find out she'd been shot or worse. Well, grazed. Obvious had she been shot, she'd be in the hospital. Also would be in the hospital if worse had occurred.

Carol stepped out of her bedroom, and Daryl shot up. She smiled a little. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Nah, it's all right. I was just about to turn on the TV." He tossed the remote onto the couch and saw tears fill her eyes. "What's wrong?"

"You're probably going to hate me. I hate myself." She knotted her fingers together, biting her bottom lip.

"I doubt I'll hate you."

She inhaled. "I went to a friend's house a couple weeks ago. Uh, she's like a mom to me. I love her a lot. She sent me an email, asking me over, so I went. And...you should know this friend, this mom figure, is Shane's aunt."

"Shane? As in your ex?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Okay." He prepared himself this.

"I just... He came over in the middle of us talking, and I didn't know he'd be over. I swear I didn't." She wanted to move closer, but her feet were cemented to the floor. "He pulled me into the bathroom to tell me she's sick. She has Alzheimer's. Anyway, we started to fight after he made a comment that reminded me of our breakup, and I told him it was over, that him trying to fight for us was fruitless. He didn't listen, and...well, he kissed me."

Daryl's throat contracted, and he had to sit down.

"I don't know for how long. I...I was in shock. I left immediately afterward, and I haven't spoken to him since. He's tried to contact me, but I ignore his calls. He hasn't tried to stop by the apartment, but I've been avoiding home." She studied him. "I'm so sorry, Daryl. It didn't mean anything. I swear. It was just a one-sided kiss."

"That took you two weeks to tell me about?"

"I—I'm sorry. I was busy with work, and I didn't know how to tell you. I've never had to do or say anything like this before, and I didn't know how. I'm...not the cheating type. I didn't want you to think of me as a whore. I swear it was one-sided. It didn't mean anything. Please, please..."

Daryl watched her crumble and noted something familiar about it. He stood up and embraced her, her apologizes muffled against his shoulder, and he cradled the back of her head. He knew it meant nothing. She wouldn't be so torn up about it if it meant something, if Daryl meant nothing to her, and she was busy with work. He'd seen her cases in the news, and she'd been pissy about the leaks. He also trusted her. That kiss only meant Shane still had feelings for her, not the other way around, and he'd give Shane a piece of his mind.

"It's all right." He held her at arm's length. "I believe you. You'e not a whore." She lowered her eyes, and he raised her chin. "You're not."

"I'm sorry."

"It's all right."

She hugged him and exhaled against his chest. "I'm still sorry."

He chuckled a little. "Okay. Then I accept your apology. It's okay. Please, don't...don't cry." He rubbed her back.

"Okay." She squeezed him. "Thank you."

"Trust me there'll be worse things we'll come across than your possessive ex." He murmured this into her hair, knowing she couldn't hear it, but he didn't know she'd been thinking the same thing. The past would show itself, and it wouldn't be pretty. It rarely was.

A knock on the front door drew their attention, Carol snuffled and rubbed her eyes, moving to answer it, and Daryl peeked around the corner to see who it was. He was curious to know who'd be knocking at her door this late. Tara was already in bed, and they'd eaten dinner already, so who was it?

She pulled the door open without checking the peep hole and found Shane standing there. He always did have shitty timing. "Oh, for the love of God," she muttered.

"What happened?" He took in her puffy, red eyes and reached out to wipe away a stray tear when she moved back. "Carol, what happened?" His eyes then moved to the person behind her. "Who the hell are you?"

"I would ask the same, but I think I already know."

"Did you do this to her?" He barged into the apartment and yanked the stranger up by his shirt collar. "Did you make her cry?"

"Shane, stop!" Carol hurried over to try and push them apartment, but they were was space between them to push through. "Let him go."

"I was right." Daryl grasped Shane's wrists. "You're the ex."

"You're about to be dead. Did you make her cry, you son of a bitch?"

"No, you did." Daryl twisted his wrists and forced Shane to let him go, Carol moved in between them instantly, and Daryl released his wrists to keep from accidentally hurting Carol if Shane made any sudden moves. "Why are you here?"

"To see my... Carol. To see Carol. Why are you here? Do you know what time it is?"

"I was invited. And why are you here at this hour of the night anyway?"

"I already told you." He then stopped addressing the stranger. "Carol, are you all right?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "No thanks to you."

"Is this about that kiss? I'm sorry. I—I shouldn't have made that move. I was just...desperate."

"I don't care what you were, Shane. We're not together. We're certainly not friends. I don't want you here, so just go."

"I just want to talk. In private."

"There's nothing you can't say to me in front of my boyfriend," she emphasized.

Shane's eyes moved once more to the stranger. "Boyfriend. So, you're the guy she's seein'?"

"Yeah, I am. For a few weeks now."

Shane nodded. "Good."

"Why is that good?" Carol narrowed her eyes at him.

"Because you aren't attached to him yet. He's just a rebound guy." He smirked. "I still have some wiggle room."

"No, you don't. There is no room to wiggle. We are over. You made that clear when you ditched you. I thought I was pregnant, and you dumped me without even confirming whether I was or wasn't. You didn't care. You just abandoned me at the first sign of commitment!" She huffed. "You don't get to come here and fight with my boyfriend or me. You don't get to win me back. What you did was disgusting, and I—I hate you for it. I'm still angry about it, but I'm learning to let go. You don't get to come back here and trample over all the progress I've made. When you walked out that was it, Shane. You weren't there for me. You didn't love me. You left me. You just left me, and that was it."

"I had to go undercover," he informed her. "Those guys knew I was a cop, I had to play dirty. I couldn't let them hurt you, but I couldn't tell you I was going under. I couldn't tell anybody."

"Bullshit. I called you. You picked up. I heard a woman in the background, asking for a cork screw."

"That was a fellow officer. She's undercover too, as a prostitute. She was getting me out of there. That was our code phrase. It was the only thing we could think of that didn't seem too out of the ordinary. I was going to be killed that night, but she got me out."

"Really? You think I'm going to buy that?"

"You should, because it's the truth. I was trying to protect you and a child we might have had. I couldn't go under knowing I might lose you and our baby. I know it doesn't make sense now, but it did at the time. I was panicked and overwhelmed. I made the wrong choice. I'm sorry."

"It's late for sorry. Just get out."

"Fine. You need time to cool off, so I'll hang back. Take as much time as you need, but please talk to me. In a month, or two or forty, I don't care. Just talk to me when you're ready."

"Get out," she whispered.

He looked at Daryl. "I'm sorry to you too."

"What for?" Daryl asked.

"For giving you a chance to know this amazing woman but not the chance to keep her. I'm going to fight for you, Carol. I'm not sorry about that kiss. I'm sorry about the situation around it. I shouldn't have kissed you after I told you about my aunt. That was wrong, so was the way I left. I am sorry to have hurt you. It kills me to know I hurt you, but I'm going to make it right. I will."

Carol turned away from him, not replying.

"She asked you to leave," Daryl spoke for her, "so be a decent human being and leave."

"I'll be around." He walked out and closed the door behind him.

Carol slumped against the wall, hugging herself and avoiding eye contact with Daryl. He knew the whole story now, and he knew about her pregnancy scare. She wasn't sure how to speak to him about it right now. Her heading spinning from the news of Shane being undercover, and this Dawn officer. She wasn't positive she knew how to cope with any of this news, and she wanted to curl up in bed and not leave until she had an answer. She couldn't do that, clearly. She was an adult, she had a job and bills to pay. She couldn't act like a teenager. She had to be mature, and she had to deal with this head on. Somehow.

Daryl ran his eyes over Carol and saw she didn't want to talk about it right now. He understood. It was a lot to take in. He learned a lot in the last couple of minutes, and he honestly he wasn't sure what to do with it. Shane was a creep, and he was definitely possessive. He wasn't going to go down without a fight? Good, neither was Daryl. He really like Carol, and she wanted to be with him. Shane needed to get that through his thick skull. Daryl wouldn't try and force the issue with Shane. He didn't want to step on Carol's toes like that. It was her past relationship, and she could handle it, but if she asked him for help, he'd get that asshole off of her back in a hot second.

"What a creep." Tara stood in the hallway.

"Tell me about it." Carol rolled her eyes to try and keep the tears away.

Daryl glanced at Tara, who gave him a nod, and he returned it. "I should go home. I gotta a big day ahead of me tomorrow."

"You don't have to leave." Carol pushed off the wall.

"It ain't 'cause of Shane," he assured her. "I gotta a long work day comin'."

She nodded. "Okay."

He cupped her cheeks and kissed her slowly to let her know they were fine. And they were. He wasn't upset. He wasn't bothered. He was worried about her, but he'd check in with her tomorrow and leave her with her roommate. Tara might know best. "Good night." He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, feeling her smile.

"Good night."

"I'll call you tomorrow."

"I look forward to it."

He kissed her once more and tossed a goodbye at Tara before ducking out, Carol closed the door and locked it, and Tara wrapped her arms around Carol from behind in a hug. Carol gripped Tara's hand, and she asked to sleep with her tonight. She didn't want to be alone.

"Yeah." Tara smiled at her. "We'll go and buy you a new mattress this weekend."

"You buying?"

"I'll pitch in." She patted her shoulder.

"Thanks, Tara. That means so much."

Tara guided her back towards her bedroom, not detecting a single note of sarcasm in her words, and she smiled. "No problem. It's what I'm here for." She rubbed her back and made a mental note to tell Rosita she had plans for this weekend. It might not take two days, but Carol needed someone, and Tara hoped to be that someone. She wanted to be a friend to her, and she wanted to help her through this, and Carol was picky when it came to mattresses. They'd probably spend the entire weekend just trying to find a bed and then next weekend trying to find sheets for it. She might regret this, but it would be worth it. She hoped.

––

Rosita entered the bullpen bright and early that chilly November morning, pulling her gloves off and removing her scarf. She entered the break room to prepare a pot of coffee, spotting a box of donuts Boss had brought in, and she helped herself to one once the pot was hissing to life and producing death coffee. She strolled over to her desk to start up her computer and her eyes fell on a beautiful bouquet of flowers.

It was a lovely arrangement of yellow tulips and baby's breath with a card. It was from the same person who had written that pretty letter, and she licked icing off her fingers before opening it to find more sweet words inside. It'd been almost three weeks since the bomb had been disarmed, and she and Carol had received plenty of letters and stuffed animals and chocolate, but this was the first time flowers had been sent. They were so lovely. She couldn't help but smile and inhale the scent.

Little did she know these were the first of several gifts she was going to receive, and not all would be so kind. As she walked away from the bouquet, a stream of snapshots were taken from the one who had sent the flowers and the letter. The one who had been watching her since that first interview on Morales and the bomb. The one who was now keeping tabs on her and her so called friends. It'd taken years to cultivate these relationships, and in mere moments he would destroy every single bond, saving the best for last.


	22. Here Hides The First Truth

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"So, he hasn't bothered you since?" Daryl chopped onions as Carol half chopped and half eat the mushrooms he'd given her to work on.

"No. No phone calls, no drop bys, no nothing." She smiled. "I'm glad. I thought I'd have to beat him off with a stick, and I don't have the energy for that."

"Me either."

She met his eyes. "He wasn't this...possessive when we were together. I don't know where this is coming from. Trust me when I say...it isn't mutual. I don't want him back. I don't... I'm not in love with him anymore. He was a big part of my life, but it's in the past. You don't need to worry that something might happen between us."

He scrapped the chopped onions into the skillet, ditching the knife and cutting board in the sink, and he approached her from behind, kissing her temple. "I'm not worried about anything other than you eatin' all the mushrooms."

She pursed her lips. "Sorry."

"It's okay, but I assure you—they're better on the steaks." He moved beside her and picked up the bottle of wine she'd brought with her.

She finished with the mushrooms, adding them in with the onions, and she set the cutting board and knife in the sink, rinsing and drying them off, placing them back in their proper locations. She dried her hands and turned to find Daryl texting. She was going to ask him a question, but she decided it could wait.

His brows furrowed, and he turned slightly towards his bedroom, reading the text once more, and he glanced at Carol before hiding his phone in the pocket. "Uh, I have a question."

"What question?"

"Would you mind if I ran to the store real quick?"

"What for?"

"Just...somethin' I gotta pick up."

She nodded. "Okay. I'll keep an eye on dinner."

"Thanks." He grabbed his jacket from his room, taking a little longer than necessary Carol noted, and he kissed her on his way out.

"Be careful!" she called after him, sighing at the shut door, and she crossed her arms. She walked over to the couch and sat down, watching the snow fall softly. It was only November. It was cold and snowy, and Carol didn't want to be alone tonight. She didn't want to risk Shane coming to the apartment again, and she didn't want to come home and find out Tara wasn't there, so she decided to come and stay with Daryl. He didn't seem to mind, and she was glad. She didn't want to seem clingy or pushy. She just really didn't want to be alone, and honestly she felt like the only time she'd see Tara again was Thanksgiving. It was coming up, and they normally spend it at a restaurant since none of them could really fit all of them and all of those platters and plates in one apartment. Aaron and Eric were hosting it at their new place this year, and the duties were all divvied up. Carol and Boss were in charge of the turkey, Maggie and Aaron were on the sides, Rosita and Tara were making/buying the desserts, and Glenn was bringing the wine/breast milk for young Lauren. It was going to be great. She wanted to invite Daryl, but it felt a little too soon to expose him to all that crazy.

She pulld her legs in and gazed out the window, listening to the sizzling from the skillet. She would have to stir it soon, but for now she wanted to enjoy the evening. She hoped Tara was all right wherever she was, and she also hoped she got to spend more time with her. For weeks now Tara had become more and more distant, and Carol wondered if it was her and something she was doing. Then she feared it was Tara, that something was going on with her, and Carol was too busy with her own drama to even notice. She didn't want to find out something awful or wonderful happened to Tara while she was off with her boyfriend and missed it. They used to be so close, they told each other everything, but Carol was the first one to break that. When she didn't tell Tara about...

She shot up and shook her head, marching over to the stove and stirring the veggies inside the skillet. She wasn't going there. She didn't tell Tara, but she wasn't going to think about it. She couldn't, not after all this time. Well, it wasn't really after "all this time". It'd only been a couple of years, really. Three years...

The oil in the pan popped and stung her hand, she hissed and jumped back, gripping her wound. She cursed and turned on the cold water, running it over the reddening skin. Damn it. There was nothing good that would come out of these thoughts. It was best to simply forget. That was all she could do. There would never be forgiveness, but she could forget. Or try her damnedest to forget.

– – –

Daryl woke up around noon the next morning, and he sat up, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. He slipped out of bed and washed his face. He was so exhausted. He was never good at double lives. He didn't really have one, but it felt like he did. He just needed to...join both lives together, but he wasn't sure he could. He wasn't sure Carol was ready, or even himself. They'd only been together for maybe a month. He did care about her—a lot—but this was huge. This was his life and his heart, this was...more than a little secret. This was something no one else knew, especially not Merle. To tell Carol about this, he had to more than just like her a lot.

He dried his face and tossed the rag onto the counter, shaking his head. He needed to talk to her, get her opinion and then maybe he'd know how to approach Carol. Or he'd just talk to her and get a nice wet raspberry in his face. She didn't want anyone to know, so what would make Carol an exception?

There was a knock on the front door, he straightened up and blew out a sigh, and he dragged himself to the door to answer. He found Shane Walsh there, in all his 5'10 glory, and he wondered which abuse of power allowed him to arrive here. Running a background check, running his plates, or simply stalking him and/or Carol? And he also wondered if he could Shane written up for it.

"What are you doing here?" Daryl demanded.

"I came to talk to you."

"What about?"

"You know exactly who I'm here to talk to you about."

Daryl moved aside to let him inside, and he closed the door. If he beat his ass, he didn't want witnesses. "We don't have anything to talk about when it comes to Carol."

"Oh, but we do." He turned to him. "She's not your type."

"And what makes you think you know what my type is?"

"It ain't hard to guess." He knew his brother pretty well, both from his work and Merle's. "Look, you might actually care for her. It's hard not to. She's...amazing and sweet, but there are things that you won't like. They'll make you run, and I don't want you to hurt her. If you hurt her, I'd have to kill you, so just save me the time and break it off. It's only been a few weeks. You can...find someone else."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"No. No, I didn't, because it was the ramblings of a nutcase. I am not gonna break up with her, because you want her back. You made your mistakes. I ain't about to follow you. I do care about her, and I'm not going to let you try and ruin the first good relationship I've had in a while." He had to plant his feet to keep from yanking Shane up by his shirt collar. "And she has baggage? So do I. So does everybody."

He shook his head. "You won't know her half as well as I do."

"You had your chance. Three years of them, but you chose your job over her. It's pretty clear what you want, and it ain't Carol. So why don't you just do what's good for her and not yourself for once?"

"I always put her best interest first!"

"I doubt it."

Shane opened his mouth to retort when the front door flew open and in blew a little girl. All he saw was a blur of blonde locks and Daryl stumbled when he was tackled in the biggest hug. Well, it was the same hug she'd always given him, but it was still the biggest hug she could offer. She was seriously the best part of his life, and he knew he was one of hers. He simply wished she knew how to knock. She was ten for pity's sake.

"Brianna!" Amy stood in the doorway, sighing. "I am so sorry."

"No worries." He held her in his arms still.

"Tell that to her when she's sixteen and still tosses a door open without knocking."

"Sorry." Brianna released Daryl. "I wanted to see Da again. I never get to see him twice in a month."

"Yeah, well, you still need to knock. He has company, Bri."

Blue eyes not unlike Daryl's moved to the stranger in the room, Brianna instantly sized him up, and Shane studied her. She had dirty blonde wavy hair, the same eye and skin tone of Daryl, and she was about ten or eleven. She was beautiful, and it was obvious this woman was her mother. Given all the similar features, Shane suspected Daryl was her father.

"Don't worry about it." Shane smiled. "I was just leaving. I have to get to work."

Daryl narrowed his eyes at Shane's hasty escape, Amy didn't like the look on Daryl's face, and Bri was eager to get today started. She was so excited to get to spend more time with Daryl. They always went out to eat and had ice cream. They always just hung out, and it was great. She loved spending time with her mom and with Daryl. She was also super glad that stranger left. She felt something in the air between him and Daryl, and it wasn't nice. They weren't friends. That was clear.

"Should we get out of here?" Amy inquired, peeking at the open front door. "I mean, the day won't get started here, right?"

"Right. Let me just change real quick." He closed the door and hurried to his bedroom, knowing how impatient Bri could be. He wanted to send a message to Carol, too. He knew Shane would tell her about Bri and Amy, and he wanted the chance to explain himself. Shane didn't know the whole story—or any of it—so Daryl hoped she gave him the chance for the truth.

Brianna wandered the apartment while Daryl changed and found a scarf on the couch. She picked it up and unraveled it, tossing it around her shoulders like a shawl. It smelled like perfume, and she wondered whose it was. It was pretty, with black and blue butterflies on it, and it was thick. She wanted it, but it probably wasn't Da's, so she'd leave it be. She had plenty of her own.

"Whatcha got there?" Amy leaned on the back of the couch.

"A scarf." She spun around with it. Look, Mommy, I'm a lady."

"Oh, classy." She smirked.

"It smells like a girl. Does Da have a girlfriend?"

"I dunno. He might." She studied her daughter. "Would that bother you if he did?"

She shook her head. "Nope."

"It wouldn't?"

"No. I want him to be happy when we're gone, and if she makes him happy then good." She spun again.

Amy laughed as Bri spun herself silly and dizzy, and Amy turned her gaze to Daryl's bedroom. She wondered who this woman was. He hadn't mentioned anyone. She wasn't upset. Well, not enough that it mattered. She thought after all they'd been through, he'd tell her stuff like this. It wasn't going to hurt her at all. She wanted him to be happy. After all he'd done for her, for them, of course she wanted him to be happy. She hoped he knew that.

"I'm ready." Daryl slipped into his coat and caught Bri by the shoulders, seeing Carol's scarf around her. "That's not yours, kid."

"Sorry." She handed it over immediately. "I was just playing with it."

"You can play with my stuff, but not this, okay? It's... It ain't mine." He set it on the back of the armchair. "So, where to first?"

"Breakfast." Amy approached him and smiled. "I know you just woke up, so it's the least I can do is feed you."

"Good, 'cause I could eat the little one here."

"I'd punch you," Bri stated. "But you can try."

Daryl chuckled and ruffled her hair. "God, you're just like your..." he cut a look to Amy who shook her head rapidly, knowing instantly what was going to come rolling off his tongue. "...aunt."

"Andrea?" Bri thought about it. "I guess. We both like fishing and have the same hair."

"You're both aggressive." Amy poked her forehead. "You're more her daughter than mine."

"No way." She hugged her mom's waist. "Don't say that."

Amy smiled. "I'm kidding." She met Daryl's eyes. "You're the best thing that happened to me."

Daryl smirked a bit. "Let's get some food. I need coffee."

They headed out, Daryl pulled the door shut and locked it, and he took a hold of Bri's hand as they headed out of the building. Amy was walking ahead towards the car, and Bri held tightly to his hand. He smiled happily to himself and gripped her hand back lightly, glad to be able to spend more time with her. Once a month simply didn't cut it. He needed and wanted more time with her. She was family, and he had so few of that. He loved Brianna, and he wanted her in his life more. Maybe he could try and convince Amy to move down here again. He wasn't successful last time, or the times before that, but maybe now that Bri was older. They had to tell her at some point, and he wanted her in his life, so why wait? Sooner or later the truth would come out, and he didn't want it to be ugly, but it would be if Amy didn't tell Bri the truth about who he was to her. She was smart. She would figure it out. The sooner they told her, the better, because if she found out on her own, she would be...crushed. She's wanted her dad for so long and to know he was so close all these years...

He respected Amy raising Bri as well as she was, but she needed her dad, and the rest of her family. It was only fair.

––

Carol finished the paperwork on their last case, hoping—perhaps a little selfishly—that all this crime died down and they didn't have to work on Thanksgiving. She wanted to spend time with her friends, with her family. She missed just hanging out with them. Aaron and Eric were the only two she could find time to catch a drink with or to talk to on the phone or outside of work. Glenn and Maggie were busy with trying to decide if they were spending Lauren's first Thanksgiving at home with Maggie's parents, at home with Glenn's, or here with Glenn's work family (despite already making plans with the work family). And she didn't know what was going on with Tara or Rosita. They were best buds, and Carol was a little curious what was happening between them. She had a feeling she already knew, but there was no way. Right?

"Hey, stranger." Rosita sat on the edge of Carol's desk.

"You're one to talk." She leaned back in her chair. "What's up?"

"You. You've been dating for a while now, and we haven't gotten to meet the guy." She rested her hands in her lap. "Why is that?"

"Because you're all crazy people."

"We are not."

"Okay, yes. Yes, you are." She reached forward and collected her coffee. "You're also never around to talk to me, let alone meet my boyfriend, so...yeah."

"I am always around," Rosita protested.

"No, you're not. Tara's not. Glenn's not. Only Aaron and Eric are." And Buttons.

"Wait, have they gotten to meet him?"

She smirked. "Maybe."

"That's not fair, Carol. We've been together longer than you and Aaron and Eric. We're friends, best friends. We fight like sisters. I've lent you my clothes, and vice versa. I—Well, Tara and I should meet the guy first. Or at least _with_ Aaron and Eric."

"No one's met the guy," Aaron informed her. "We came close last week, but not close enough."

"How did that even happen?" Rosita's brows furrowed.

"Daryl and I went out for a drink, Aaron and Eric were out for Jones' cheesy fries and beer. Daryl had to leave due to a work emergency, and Aaron and Eric saw him as he walked out the door." She drank from her cup.

"So you didn't even know it was him?"

"No. It wasn't until we saw Carol had two drinks and a leather jacket on that we realized she had been on a date."

"Leather?" Rosita smirked. "Daryl wears leather?"

"Why are you like this?" Carol asked her.

"What? I'm only asking. I mean, you're happy, so I'm happy. If the sex is good then great. I haven't seen you smile so much in months. I'm really happy for you. I'd be happier if I met the guy, but I'll just have to stalk you better."

"Ha ha." Carol rose to get some more coffee. She didn't want to tell them she and Daryl actually hadn't had sex yet. It'd been about a month since they started dating, and they'd done a lot of things, but not sex. She wasn't quite ready for that step. She wanted it to be...worth it. She wanted it to be great. Perfect didn't exist. Shane proved that to her, so she wanted great. She wanted incredible. She wanted that moment to be right for both of them, and she wanted it to just happen. She didn't want to push. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable. She liked just sleeping beside him and kissing him and talking with him. She was really just enjoying...him, and she wanted to make the new experiences last. The rest would follow and come naturally. So waiting was okay.

She felt her phone buzz, and she dug it out, reaching into the fridge to pull out creamer to drown the death coffee in. It was a text from Daryl, and she couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. He wanted to talk to her tonight. She bit her bottom lip and glanced back through the doorway to watch Aaron and Rosita tease each other. Glenn and Tara were on their way to booking with their latest creep. She wondered when would be the right time to introduce them to Daryl. She wanted them to know him, but she wanted something that was just hers. She'd never had anything that was only hers. Tara was her best friend, but something more with Rosita—if the energy between them the last couple of days was what Carol believed it was. Aaron and Glenn were like brothers, but had their husband and wife. Boss was like a dad, but had his nephew and Sasha. But Daryl? He was hers. He wasn't tied to anyone else she loved, and they weren't tied to him. They were just each others, and that made it so much...sweeter.

She stirred in the creamer and put it back in the fridge, heading towards her desk with her French vanilla death. She told him she'd see him then. She couldn't wait to punch out and spend time with him. It was less stressful with Daryl. She'd been putting a block on Rosita and Tara, but she had a feeling it wouldn't last long. She could only hope she blew at Tara, not Aaron or Glenn or Boss or the delivery boy. She didn't want to do that again. Poor kid had to listen to her sobs about Shane. It was awful. For both of them. He didn't come back for two months. Carol honestly didn't blame him.

"I have plans tonight, and so do you, but why don't we go out?" Rosita offered. "Just us. We can get some margaritas and go dancing. We can...catch up. I feel like I never see you outside of work anymore."

"Because you don't." She rested her chin on her knuckles. "I'd love to, Rosita. How about on Thursday? We can just head out after work."

"Sounds great. I'll bring singles."

"We are not going to a strip club."

She grinned. "I was kidding."

"Somehow I don't think you were."

"I'm offended. I've got plenty of action at home. I don't need to seek it out."

"We noticed," Aaron mused. "You've been smiling for a week straight. Who's the lucky soul?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Nobody you know."

"When it ends, just let me know. Eric found a new brownie recipe that goes great with wine."

Rosita lowered her eyes and murmured, "Who says it has to end?"

Aaron blinked. "Wait, what did you just say?"

"Okay." Tara entered the bullpen. "I'm starving. Who wants to come with me to an all night diner? They have great food, good music, great food. I'm hungry. Let's go.""

"I'm game." Glenn stood beside her. "I want some eggs and pancakes."

"I could eat." Aaron pushed off his desk, his eyes still on Rosita. "How about you, Espinosa?"

"I could eat a whole cow at this point." She hopped up. "And a milkshake sounds good."

"How about you?" Tara turned to Carol.

"I can't. I still have paperwork." She'd just found another pile under the nice and neat finished stack. "I'll try and catch up to you guys."

Tara tried her best not to seem disappointed. "Okay. I'll send you directions."

"I'll save you a seat." Aaron slipped into his coat.

"Thanks." She uncapped her pen and watched her team leave, feeling her heart tug at how little they got to spend time together as a group. She hoped Thanksgiving filled in the holes that had been forming these last couple of weeks. She missed them. She saw them every single day, talked to them at least twice an hour, but she missed them so much. God, she hoped they could all make it to dinner.

She straightened her spine and dove in to finish the remaining paperwork. Her heart was heavy with sadness, and she was pushing herself to write quickly. She wanted to spend time with them before she had to meet Daryl. It was only nine o' clock, and she didn't want to keep him up for most of the night, but she had to spend time with her family. She just had to, and if he didn't understand that then they would have a problem in the near future.

Her family was everything. She'd been through so much with Ed and her mother, and this team just accepted her. They accepted her past and her struggles and took them on as their own when she needed them to. She didn't even have to ask. They simply did. They were the best thing that ever happened to her, and she was beyond grateful for her life turning out this way. They were a blessing, and when the time was right, Daryl would meet them and see exactly what she meant when she talked about them to him. She wanted them to get along, because she loved Boss, Tara, Rosita, Eric, Aaron, Glenn, Maggie and Lauren so much. They were with each other through thick and thin and blood be damned, they were her family, and Daryl was becoming very important to her. Four weeks, and he did funny things to her heart and her laughter. She couldn't explain it. It was...just what she'd been afraid of having when Shane left her.

She couldn't wait to get out of here and see both her team and her man. She could get through this. She just had to power through!

– – –

She sighed and rested her head on her arm that laid on her desk, scribbling out more details. She was sleepy and a little hungry, and it was going on ten o' clock. She was on the last sheet, but it didn't matter. Her team had likely gone home, and she would be heading over to Daryl's in a lousy mood. She would try and perk up, but she doubted it'd happen simply because she wanted it to. Maybe with a food and conversation, she'd feel better, but for now she was miserable.

She grumbled and scratched out her name on the final sheet in cursive, dropping her pen and standing up. She stretched her back, putting pressure on her lower spine with her hands and moaning at the pleasure stretching gave her. She exhaled deeply and gazed at the lights above her. She would turn it in tomorrow. Fuck it. She was out.

She slipped into her coat and wrapped her scarf around her neck, shoving her keys and phone into her pockets. She flicked the lights off and strolled out of the bullpen towards the elevator. She was met with another detective, and she jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of Lilly Rush. She was so excited to see her role model, but she was on the phone. She didn't want to be rude, so she stilled herself and calmed her fangirling. It wasn't like she was standing next to Philly's first female murder cop! Oh, God, she used to dream about this moment—and questioned her sexually for about half a minute—but eek!

"I know. I'll see you soon." There was an embarrassed pause. "I love you too."

Carol smiled to herself. Philly's first had love in her life. Wow, that was impressive and beautiful. It made Carol happy and warm. Maybe...even if Daryl wasn't the one...her one...she would still find someone. The right one. The best one. The only one. Someone who would love her through all of her scars and her nightmares and truths. Someone who...maybe already found her. Standing in ankle high water and frayed shorts.

The doors opened, a man stood just outside with a phone to his ear, and Carol blinked then figured out who he was. She hurried off the elevator to give them a moment but stopped to listen from a distance.

"Yeah, but I love you enough to come back to work for you," he smirked lovingly at her.

Lilly hung up. "What are you doing here? You left early so Regina wouldn't be alone."

"Relax. She's with my parents." He took her into his arms. "I came to pick up my wife on this cold November night and bring her home for dinner. That's what I'm doing here."

"Scotty." She smiled. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

"Ridiculously in love with you? Yeah, I know that, Lil." He kissed her.

Carol smiled at that and slipped out, her smile dying at the man waiting for her in the snow. She halted at the top of the steps, her eyes falling on Shane who was standing stone still at the bottom of the steps. He was all bundled up and wearing the scarf she'd given him for his birthday years ago. The asshole never wore one, so she bought him this cute little guns and badges one. All rolled up it was hard to tell what it was, plus it was faded from the washer, so it was now like...faded guns and weird shapes.

"Hey." He smiled at her, climbing up the stairs to meet her. "It's a little late to be punchin' out."

"It's a little late for a lot of things."

"That's true, but we were always were night owls." He caught her eye, memories flood through both of them, and the giggling of the past seemed to fill the space around the duo, though the icy late fall air kept the warmth away. "Had a lot of fun about this time."

"I'm sure we did."

"Don't be like that."

"Be like what?" she sneered. "Bitter? Angry? You broke my heart, you son of a bitch. You don't get to try and charm your way back into my good graces. You have no idea what I went through."

"I know. I know I did that, and that I don't know, but I'm sorry, Carol." He reached out and grasped her hand. "I am so sorry. Please, please, let me make it up to you. I'll be better. I'll be smarter and kinder. Hell, we can go down to city hall right now. I don't think it's open, but we can stay up all night and just...talk. Catch up."

She tilted her head and smiled a little. "City hall?"

"Yeah, you always said you didn't want a big wedding."

"That's true. I'm surprised you remembered."

"'Course I did."

"Do you remember the weekend we spent in New York?"

He chuckled. "Yeah, I do remember that. It was for your birthday. We got so wasted. God, we nearly got thrown out of the hotel."

"You broke the sink."

"I'm still payin' that off."

"Are you really?" She laughed.

"Yeah. Expensive ass sink. I regret only that." He searched her eyes. "Out of all of it... _all_ of it...that's all I regret."

"Yeah?" She stepped closer to him. "That's all?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "I miss you."

She swallowed. "I miss you too." She watched him lean down to kiss her, and she turned her head to the side. "But...I've grown used to missing things...missing people."

He frowned. "Carol—"

"See, you only regret breaking a sink, but me?" Tears filled her eyes. "I regret crying in the shower over you. I regret letting you get to know me so deeply. I regret letting you into my life and my friend's lives. I regret...wasting three months of my life mourning a relationship that had no future."

"And this new one does?" he snapped back. "You don't know him."

"I know he's good. I know he's loyal and honest and kind. He's a good man, and I don't question that." She met his eyes. "But you? I don't know anymore, Shane. I don't know who you are or what you're about. We're strangers. We can't just go back. I moved on. You broke my heart, and I moved on without you. I'm happy now, and if you love me so much, you'd let me go. You'd let me be happy, but you're not. You won't, and the Shane I knew—"

"I wouldn't stand idly by while some prick steals the love of my life!"

"But I'm not the love of your life."

"You are!"

"No." She shook her head. "No, you're not, and we're not."

"We can be. If you'd just give me one more try—a second chance. Carol, please."

"This isn't about chances. This isn't about tries. This is about how you chose the job over me, how you lied to me, how you broke my heart without a second thought—"

"I did that to protect you!"

"If you knew me at all, you would have known hurting me wasn't protecting me! It was just agony!" Tears rolled down her cheeks as she shouted at him. "I am a big girl. I can stand on my own two feet and handle that you were being sent undercover! You're using it as an excuse! And I know the lines blur. You have to—to do things you don't want to...to get what you want, what you need, and I get it, but...there were other ways you could have gone about it, Shane. You could have told me. You could have let a note! An e-mail! A text! Or you could have been man enough to tell me to my damn face!"

She made to walk off, but he grabbed her and spun her around. "Let me go!"

"So I made a bad choice! I'll admit it. I made a mistake, but at least I'm not Daryl. I ain't—I'm not keepin' things from you."

"What are you talking about? He's not keeping anything from me."

"Then you know about his daughter?"

She narrowed her eyes. "What daughter?"

"She's probably about ten or eleven. She looks just like him. She came by..."

"Came by?" she pressed, invading his personal space. "Came by where, Shane?"

"Came by his apartment."

"You went to his apartment?" She frowned. "How did you even—? Oh, you ass. You asshole!" She hit him. "You ran a background check on my boyfriend?!"

"I ran his plates," he confessed. "I wanted to make sure you were safe. His brother has record a mile long! And that's just the kiddy stuff!"

"You're the prick!" She shoved him. "Don't look in on me or him or his supposed daughter!"

"She's his. She looks just like him. And her mom is pretty attractive. I bet they're still together."

"You're an asshole!" she spat. "You stay away from me and from Daryl. If I so much as see you—"

"He's the one lying to you! He's probably married!"

"You're insane! And you're the one stalking my boyfriend! He still has time to tell me about his daughter, and it'd be okay. It'd be okay if her mom is his ex, and they're on good terms for her. That'd be okay with me, but there is nothing okay with stalking my boyfriend! No intentions are good enough! I am a grown ass woman, and I do not need you keeping an eye on me or Daryl or anybody else in my life."

"He'll never be good enough for you!"

"And you are? The prize that left what could have been a pregnant woman after a ten minute conversation?" She shook her head. "You're disgusting. And I don't want to see you again. Not at my apartment, not at my job, not even at our old favorite coffee joint. Nowhere, Shane, okay? Nowhere."

"Carol, he could be married with a child, and you're just some move to him."

"Do you hear yourself right now?" She scoffed. "I'm going home. Do not follow me."

"Carol, wait."

"No. I've done enough waiting for you, waiting for answers, waiting for so damn much. I am done. We're done, and we are never going to get back together. I don't love you anymore. Accept that."

"No, I refuse to accept that." He grabbed her arm.

She cried out in pain. "Let go!"

"No. I'm not letting you go again."

"Get off!" She dug her nails into his cheek, he hissed, but he didn't loosen his grip.

"Hey, hey!" Scotty ran over to the two. "Let her go, man."

"This isn't your business," Shane informed him with a low growl in his words.

"Let her go." Lilly marched over to the trio. "Now, Walsh, or I'll have your damn shield."

He glanced at the woman and let Carol go slowly.

"Now get out of here. Don't even bother to say another word."

He sighed and stared at Carol before shoving off.

Scotty set a hand on Carol's shoulder. "You okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you." She gripped her arm where Shane had held her. "Both of you."

"Don't mention it." Lilly smiled. "We gotta look out for each other."

"You okay to get home, or do you need a lift?"

She looked from Scotty to Lilly and smiled. "Thank you, but I'll get home okay. I really appreciate what you did. I don't know that he would have let go without force."

"I'm just glad we were here." Scotty rubbed the back of his neck.

"Yeah." She nodded and stepped back. "I should get home. It's late, but thank you again." She headed to her car, seeing they were still watching, so she waved before she drove off.

And it wasn't until she was parked outside her apartment that her body erupted in convulsions, and she couldn't stop crying. She gripped the steering wheel and shivered, her visions incredibly blurred, and she couldn't stand the thoughts brewing in her mind. She didn't know what had set this off, but she couldn't compose herself. She was wailing and trembling, the snow blurring in her aching eyes, and she wanted to scream, but there was no sound to be heard.

She dropped her forehead onto the steering wheel, her chest bubbling from the lack of air, and she shook her head. She didn't know what was going on, but she had a feeling she knew exactly what was going on. She felt ready to explode, but there was no one to aim it at other than herself. She needed answers, and she needed them now. She couldn't have this bitter war raging inside of her, consuming her, but it had been for years. Perhaps karma was merely catching up to her. It would be fitting. After what she did, the lies she told...

"Oh, God." She lifted her head and sat back in the driver seat, breathing deep. She wiped at her eyes and realized what she needed to do. The next step but not nearly the final. She pulled her car out of the parking lot and drove to the one place she could find answers and perhaps some release. There was nowhere else, at least nowhere else where she could say these words and not be hurt by the reaction.

––

Daryl paced the length of the window, his phone on the ledge, and he kept waiting for a reply. He'd been waiting for hours, but she hadn't called or replied. He was worried. He knew he'd pushed it some tonight, but honestly this had always been his position. She knew that. Didn't she? He told her time and again since Bri was born that he wanted...

There was a pounding on his door, he wondered who it could be at this hour, and he answered it without checking through the peephole. In stumbled his girlfriend, and he caught her arms, pulling her up into his chest. He saw her eyes were red and puffy, streaks staining her cheeks, and she was quivering. He tightened his grip on her and lowered them to the floor, adjust her carefully on his lap, and he felt as he did when he used to hold Bri when she hurt herself. Only Carol was across his lap, not hanging onto him like a spider monkey.

"What is it? What happened?" He began to unbutton her coat as it was damp from snow having melted on it, and he pushed it off her slump shoulders, finding the arm of her blouse wrinkled. What was odd was the other wasn't. He reached around her back and carefully tugged it up, finding fresh bruises on her arm. "What the hell?"

"Shane," was all she said.

"I'm gonna kill that fucker. He hurt you?" He met her eyes. "He did this?"

She held him tighter. "I did worse."

"I hope so."

"Not tonight. A long time ago..."

He shook his head, not understanding. "Carol, what are you talking about?"

"Do you have a daughter?" she instead asked. "He told me he thought you had a daughter."

He sighed and lowered his head. "Look, about Bri—"

"So you do?"

"No," he replied, drawing in a long breath. "I don't. I don't have a daughter. Maybe some day, but not now. She's my niece."

"Your niece?" She studied him. "So she's Merle's?"

He nodded and helped her to her feet, closing the door so there was no chance in hell Merle could overhear, and he led her to the couch. "Brianna was the product of his brief relationship with his sober coach. Amy was just trying to help him, but Merle wasn't lookin' to be helped. They crossed lines more than once, but finally it...became too much. Amy threw him out, cut all ties with him."

"Then she found out she was pregnant?" She sank against the leather.

"Yeah." He remained standing. "She contacted me around her third trimester, begged me to fly over and see her. I did, just for old time's sake, and she laid it all on me." He crossed his arms. "I stayed with her till she had the baby then...stayed a couple weeks longer. She adjusted quickly to being a mom, and I just wanted to be around my niece, you know? I'd been having a lousy time, and seein' that little baby girl look at me with such...trust and love. I had to stay."

She almost smiled at how he talked about his niece. "So nothing happened between you two?"

"No. She's like a sister to me. And I don't like to mix with Merle's...exes." Merle wasn't the cleanest man in the world, and Daryl did not want to share women or infections with him. He was just glad none of that went to Amy or Bri.

She shuddered. "And she looks like Merle, and since you're brothers...you look alike." He nodded, and she felt utterly ridiculous. "God."

"Don't feel ridiculous. Loads of people assume I'm her dad. All the time people say what a cute girl I have, or she has my eyes. You're not the first or last person to think that. And I wanted to tell you about her, but...she's a secret in my life. From Merle, from my friends. I promised Amy I'd keep her that way." He scoffed. "I don't even have a picture of her for Christ's sake. Or any pictures she's made me over the years. I have to hide the birthday cards she sends me..."

"I'm so sorry."

"It's what Amy wants. She wants Bri to decide when and if she gets to meet her dad. Bri hasn't decided yet. She loves her mom and me, but...it's hard to say when you're ready to shake up your life. Hell, shake up someone's else life. She's a smart kid. She knows the...damage just as much as the gain. Or possible gain." He didn't know how Merle would react to this news. He had no way of knowing. He was unpredictable and toeing the line most days. Daryl didn't want to send him reeling over the edge, but sooner or later Bri would want to meet him, know him, and perhaps if they told Merle, the reaction would be better. It wouldn't hurt her feelings or destroy the image of their meeting she's talked about for years.

"She's special to you." Carol did smile this time.

"She's my blood. I'd die for her." He smiled softly. "You can't imagine what having that little girl in my life means to me. She's—she's not mine, but in a way she is. Merle isn't there. He can't be. But I can. I taught her how to ride a bike, how to fish, how to blow bubbles in bubble gum. She's such a great kid, real smart and...full of dreams. She keeps me on...this narrow path, and when I divert or think I want to give up, she pops up into my head."

"Why?"

"I told her never to give up on her dreams or herself, and I have to set that example for her. If I give up...she'll give up. She'll believe it's okay to give up on things you're passionate about, and it ain't. So I walk my path, and I hope it's showing her...hers."

Carol cast her eyes to the floor. "She's lucky to have you."

"I go back and forth on that, but mostly I'm real lucky to have her. She's one of those out of the blue gits that change everything in the best and worst way instantaneously." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I have so many great memories, but I've told so many awful lies to get 'em. And when Merle finds out about her...about my life with her and all those lies I've told...it's gonna hurt him. It's gonna hurt me, because he's my brother, and the last thing I want is to hurt him."

Carol pinched the bridge of her nose. "Yeah."

"It's gonna make his whole world shatter..."

"His...whole...world...?" She flattened her palms against her cheeks and began to coil up.

"Carol?" He dropped his arm and approached his shrinking girlfriend. "What is it?"

"I'm an awful, awful person."

"What? No. No, it's all right. People assume. It's what we do. It's okay. You know the truth now. Please, don't—don't beat yourself up."

She shook her head.

He pulled her into his arms. "You're not awful. You're one of the best people I know. I don't know many, so it doesn't mean much, but you are." He rubbed her back. "I want you to be okay, and you haven't been for weeks now, not since Morales. I don't expect you to tell me everything so soon, to air out the dirty and dark secrets, but Carol... It's killin' me to see you like this. You have no idea how much."

She wanted to communicate. She wanted to open her lips and speak to this wonderful, amazing, understanding man, but she couldn't. Her lips had parted but only soundless, choked sobs escaped. Her throat ached from the force of her soundless wails, her eyes stung from the profuse tears that sped down her cheeks. Her entire body was trembling, her legs had long since given out on her and only Daryl's arms kept her upright. And her heart...God, her heart. She couldn't bear the weight of the truth that rested there like a brick. A truth that only one other living soul knew—the other who knew had been killed by her own gun. A truth so...deathly explosive that she kept it in. She swallowed it and accepted it as her burden to bear. It wasn't, and that was become very plain all too late.

– – –

"Thanksgiving dinner. Yum."

Rosita smiled at the sound of Tara's messing with the pots and pans filled with goodies, and she adjusted her earring in the mirror. "Does it smell good?"

"Like turkey roasted heaven. You need to get over here."

"I'm coming." She was running behind. She had to explain to her family that this one time with friends wasn't a sin. They would see her for Christmas eve, and it'd be fine. She was even dropping by after this dinner was over. It just wasn't enough. They wanted to take up every holiday, even the ones they didn't celebrate. They were **absurd** and overbearing, but she loved them, so she'd give them this. "Oh, is the boyfriend there?"

"Nope."

"What? She's been over at his place practically every night. How did he not get invited?"

"Because you're crazy and protective and unnecessary," Carol answered in the background, having heard Tara talking on speakerphone to someone.

"You know you love us."

"I do, but no. Besides he's spending today with his family."

"How about Christmas? Does he have Christmas plans?" Rosita slipped into her coat.

"He has plans until I decided if and when I want him to meet you guys. We have enough...drama of our own to work out. Let me...take my time, please."

"Okay."

"Thank you. Now, I have to give Buttons some treats, because he's adorable. And I'm weak."

Tara waited until Carol was gone before taking the phone off speaker. "So, how about Christmas? Do you have any plans?"

"Yeah, a family thing. Why?"

"Just curious. I'm gonna try and call my sister. Maybe invite her down. I thought you'd like to join us for lunch or something."

"I can do lunch. I'd love to see Lilly again. And Meg."

She smiled. "Okay. I'll set it up."

"I look forward do it." Rosita couldn't fight the smile crossing her lips and lighting up her eyes. "I'll be there in thirty."

"Drive safe."

"I will."

"I look forward to seein' you," Tara softly mentioned.

"Wait till we get home tonight," Rosita murmured. "I'm sure you'll love what you'll see."

She chuckled. "Be safe, though, seriously."

"I will. Cops honor."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye." She hung up and slipped out the door, nearly tripping over the vase of flowers she found there. She smiled at the beautiful bouquet of white roses, lifting it up and bringing it inside. The vase was beautiful, white with a black splatter pattern. She found a card and opened it, expecting to see it was from Tara, but it wasn't...

There was just a signed D in the same pretty ink as the letter she'd gotten last month. She frowned and looked over the flowers, noticing a white corner peeking out from under the base. She lifted it up and found a letter tapped there. She swallowed and unfolded it, finding a letter typed up. She read over it and her frown deepened, her heart racing in her chest.

 _Hello, Rosita. Lovely name for a lovely woman. I've been keeping an eye on you. You truly caught my attention, and I thought it was only fair for me to return the favor. But not with attention towards me, no. No, I'd rather you focus on your so-called "friends", Rosea._

 _Like the lovely Carol Peletier. A beautiful scarlet rose littered with far too many thorns, wouldn't you agree? But it's understandable. She's prickly for a reason. She has to fend off so much. It's frankly a shame she couldn't be as innocent and pure as these white roses I've sent you. She has the makings to be a truly gorgeous and pure flower, but it just wasn't in the cards for her. Her body and tongue are covered in dirty, disgusting thorns. In lies. She is beauty but no rose._

 _I bet those gears are turning in those jet black eyes of yours. Let me break it down for you, Rosea. Like the other meaning of the snowy rose, Carol has known death and loss on a level you or I can't know. See, there's a reason Luis Morales drew her away from headquaters that day. There's a reason she and Manuel went to Mexico. And would you like to know this deep, dark little secret of hers? What truly taints this once bright, milky rose?_

 _Well, she was pregnant that day. When that bullet entered her body, it killed her and Officer Shane Walsh's unborn baby. It was too young to have a sex, but it had a heartbeat. One that bullet forced to still in its cold, metal wake. Morales thought they had a common bond through the loss of their children. His daughter and her unborn baby. He wanted to save her and be saved by her, but he only managed to do one of those. He's dead, and she is drowning in the sea of guilt and agony._

 _Now I know you've noticed the sorrow in her lachrymose eyes, and now you know the reason, my dear Rosea. And I've heard the truth will set you free, and my dear, we still have four more truths to go. Let's find out together how the freedom of truth feels, shall we?_


	23. Here Lies The Second Truth

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"I don't think it's a good time to bring this up." Aaron arranged the marshmallows on the sweet potate pie while the others were trying to catch Buttons as he'd run off with Lauren's favorite toy. She was currently fussing in her dad's lap, but it was the perfect chance for Aaron to talk to his husband. This was a huge step for them, and he wasn't sure. He just wasn't.

"I think it is. We have the whole family together. She's never been happier. It's the best time to bring this up." Eric basted the turkey, not entirely sure of what he was doing, but it seemed right. He usually left this to Carol, but his cooking buddy was late to the party. She likely had to be pried out of her new lover's arms with a crowbar, and if not, he would track the man down to do just that. He was sure the guy was great, but he wanted his entire family here for this. It might be the last Thanksgiving they spend together like this. Like the one before Lauren was brought into the world. Things were changing, and he wanted just one perfect moment of unity before that day came.

"I think we need to talk more about this. Have we even gone over everything? Have we really prepared for this? Beause I know we haven't. We don't have any clue what to do here. We're stepping into a minefield blindfolded."

"That's why they have books, Aaron." Eric smiled at his beautifully anxious—albeit currently annoying—husband. "We'll be okay. We'll make it work. We always do."

"But this isn't just us, Eric. That's my problem. And if it goes as planned, it won't be just us anymore."

"Isn't that a good thing?"

"I don't know. I really don't know."

Eric frowned. "Well, I know. It's the best thing we can do, and I want this. How can you not? We've talked about it for years. We've gone through so much. We'll be able to handle whatever is thrown at us. I don't understand how you can't see that."

"I do want to this. Trust me, I do, but it's more complicated than you know."

"I know all about how "complicated" it is. And don't try and change the subject. I want to talk about it with her, and we will. We agreed that we would. You were all for it weeks ago, so why the cold feet?"

"Because it's more of a reality now than it was weeks ago. For fuck's sake, Button's isn't even a year old yet. We should wait."

"Until when? When we're dead? When we're too old to even remember how long we've wanted this?" Eric exclaimed. "I'm not going to put this on the back burner any longer. It's not like we're going to turn around, and it'll be here tomorrow. It's just making moves towards this dream. It's just taking a step forward, okay? I don't understand why you're acting like we'll be coming home from the hospital with a baby next week. It's just a conversation."

"But a conversation that may lead to a child."

"You want to be a dad, just like I do, so what's so awful about that?"

"It's too soon. Button's is too young. We're not ready."

"I don't think it's a we situation, Aaron." Eric pushed off the counter. "I'm ready to be a dad. A baby could show up right now on our doorstep, and I'd be ready. I know what I feel when I babysit Lauren. I know what I feel when I see babies at the grocery store and on TV and when our friends invite us over for dinner. I want a baby, and I know you do too, but if you're not ready..."

Aaron could see saying he'd wait was too much, and he knew how long Eric had been wanting this, but the knots in his stomach didn't assure him of anything. He wasn't ready. He was nowhere near being ready to be a dad. He was a cop and a husband and dad to be a pup, but to a baby? To become someone's dad? He just couldn't wrap his mind around it. He was thrown by the very idea of it. To have a piece of him out in the world. He couldn't. He wanted to be ready, but he simply wasn't. He didn't know how to convey that to Eric without feeling like an ass, so he had two options. He could lie, or he could hurt his husband with the truth.

If he lied and told Eric he would just need a little more time, Eric would be crushed. He knew Aaron well enough to know when he was lying, and he knew Eric would pull away. His feelings on having a child were too strong, and if he thought for a second his feelings would push Aaron into making a decision he wasn't ready for, he'd pull away to give Aaron the space to make up his mind. He didn't want to do that. He didn't want to put distance between the two of them. He wanted to be able to move forward together, but he couldn't with how he felt. He wasn't like Eric. He wasn't sure.

Yet if he uttered that truth, it would hurt him even more. Eric was ready to be a daddy. He was ready for those extracurriculars and bruised knees. He was ready for the two a.m's feedings and diaper changes. He was ready for teething and tantrums and all that came with being a parent. He'd been ready for a long time now, waiting only for Aaron to get there, for their finances to get there, and finally to have room for a child. Two out of there had lined up, and it all fell to Aaron. But the truth remained: he simply was not ready to take that step. He wanted it. God, he wanted to be ready, to cuddle the child with the eyes of the man he loved, but he wasn't. He couldn't trick himself into being ready. He couldn't pull off that band aid. And that was hurting Eric too.

Road one, road two and standing still were all hurting the man he loved above all else, and it was killing him, too. To love Eric as much as he did and to not be at that level... What the hell was wrong with him? What was holding him back?

Eric simply sighed and departed from the room, saying he ought to help with Buttons, and Aaron wanted to call out to him. He wanted to grab his wrist and talk to him, but his hands were numb. His throat was dry. He had nothing to offer to his conversation at the moment. Perhaps never. And if that were the case...this relationship was doomed.

A rock settled on his gut at that thought, and he wanted to puke. Luckily, there was a knock on the door to distract him, and he ran to answer it, finding Rosita on the other side, all smiles. Yet there was something in her eyes, a glint of sorrow, of confusion, of worry. It stood out among the inky oceans, and his natural return of her smile faltered a bit. _What had happened_ , he wondered. Would she tell him?

"Hey." She hugged him. "Happy Thanksgiving."

"Happy Thanksgiving." He held her a second longer than usual, and he showed her inside. "Everyone else is here. We have drinks in the living room. Wine, water, beer, some pop. It's like a drink buffet in there. Eric went a little nuts."

"I could use some water." She tucked hair behind her ear. "Is little Lauren here too?"

"Yeah, she's snoozing in the guest bedroom."

"Then I'll avoid walking by. These heels echo loudly."

"Hey, Rosita," he gently caught her arm and let his hand slid down to her elbow as she turned back around to face him, "is...everything all right?"

Her mask nearly slipped at the raw sympathy she saw there, and she pulled out a wider smile. "Yeah, yeah. It's...been a long morning, talking to my family, assuring them I'll see them soon, but yeah, it's—everything's okay."

"You sure?"

"Yes, Dad." She rolled her eyes and pulled her arm free with just enough force that told him everything was definitely not all right, and she playfully socked his arm. "I have to get something to drink."

He laughed awkwardly and rubbed his arm. "All right." He closed the front door and watched her saunter to the other room. He didn't know he would bring up this feeling he felt, but there was something there. He knew Eric would pull her aside to talk later, so it might be best to let this die down. Honestly, what they would spring on her would be huge, and he couldn't imagine what it would do to her without pressuring her on what was happening outside of work. Geez.

"Hey." Carol smiled at the sight of Rosita. She had snuck in a few moments ago and hardly seen anyone, so it was good to see her.

She greeted her with a smile. Carol looked pretty cute, her hair half pulled back, wearing jeans and a sweater. She looked so comfortable yet so incredibly miserable. She had a smile on her lips but everything else was reserved and brimmed with past sorrow. The letter flitted through her mind, those last lines about what Carol had lost flashing in her head, and she wondered if it was connected.

"Want some wine?" Carol was having a glass herself.

"Nah. I'll just get some water." She crossed her arms. "How are you feeling? Tara told me about Shane. I meant to call, but...things got hectic."

"No, it's all right." She heaved a sigh. "It's been...hard. There's a lot of history with Shane, a lot of pain, and it just came to a head that night. I had to stay with someone, just keep...myself grounded, and I didn't know where Tara'd be, so I stayed with Daryl. It just seemed like the right choice."

"You could have come to me."

 _Could I have?_ Carol wanted to ask, seeing distance between the two of them. "I...I was out of my head. Daryl was the only one I had. The only one I thought I had."

She nodded, her heart aching. Her best friend, her dearest friend, felt she couldn't come to her. Her relationship with Tara, this secret relationship, was tearing apart her other relationships. She knew it might, but she hadn't expected it to come to this. Carol didn't even think she could tell them about losing the baby. She didn't feel she could turn to them anymore. How pathetic was that? God, they had to be better friends. They had to...

To what? Tell her? Hey, Tara and I have been together in a romantic relationship for months now. Every single night you needed me or her, we were busy having sex or talking or drinking and cuddling. We haven't given this relationship a title, because I'm too emotionally fucked up from the previous relationship that fucked me over, so yeah. We're just screwing around, and we could really fuck up our friendship, even thought we could possibly be more. I'm just not willing to take that step, to open that door, because while it could bring such immense happiness, the rare possibility of agony was too much. It was too much. It outweighed all the pros. I'm a big scaredy cat basically, and I couldn't bear to lose her or any relationship we have, because while I'm a chicken, I love her so much as a friend and as family and...

"Hey, you okay?" Carol was on her feet now, hand on Rosita's shoulder.

"You can always come to me." Rosita hugged her tightly. "Okay? No matter what, you can come to me, Carol."

"Rosita..."

"I mean it. You're one of the most important people in my life. You can come to me with any news, big or small."

"Did she break into the hard stuff already?" Glenn teased.

"Not that I'm aware of." Carol patted Rosita's back and smiled at her kind words. "It's okay. I'm okay. Really."

Rosita held her hard. _You're not okay! I know you're not okay. Why must you lie? God damn it, Carol!_ "I know, but I just wanted you to know. There's some space here, and I just wanna reduce it, okay?"

She nodded. "I'm all for reducing space."

"Good." She released her and turned to Glenn. "Hey, where's your better half?"

"Using the bathroom." He sat down on the couch. "Tara's in the kitchen, and Eric's in the master suite. We think he and Aaron had words, but we aren't going there."

"I see. Then I'll go catch Tara and then Eric." Rosita walked out of the room as Glenn asked Carol about the new man in her life. She sighed deeply and pushed the kitchen door open to find Tara stirring the gravy. She smiled naturally at the sight of her and instantly walked into her arms.

"Whoa." Tara hadn't expected anyone to come into the kitchen nor anybody to hug her, but at the scent of coco butter and perfume, she relaxed. She pressed a kiss to her forehead and smiled. "Hey, you."

Rosita closed her eyes and rested her head on Tara's shoulder. "Hey, you."

"Rough day?" Tara lightly tapped the spoon against the pan to remove any excess gravy and put it down on the plate where the other million spoons were.

"Yep, rough morning." She stepped back. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay." She met her eyes. "How are you then?"

"I don't even know." She rubbed her arms. "I'm just...a little all over the place. With Carol and Shane, and...us, I just...don't know. I feel like an asshole."

"How do you feel like an asshole? He's the one who left bruises on her."

"But we're the ones she should have felt she could turn to. Instead she went to a guy she hasn't known for a month, because we're unreliable. I feel like we're failing as her friends. We have to be there for her."

"She and Daryl need to get through this together too, though. I mean, Shane's a huge threat to their relationship. He has this history with Carol, and he's practically her first love. Honesty, if he tried hard enough, he might just be able to convince her they'll make it work this time around. Daryl and she need to work through this, and when she needs us, she'll find us."

"I know there are things they have to work out together, but there are things she needs us for too. There are things we should be doing as her best friends. We're not doing them, Tara. We're too busy screwing around with each other. We need to do better. I feel so guilty. She needed us, and we weren't there. We just let her slip through the cracks!"

Tara frowned. "Rosita...she didn't come to us. She needed Daryl that night. She made that quite clear. I know it sucks that we couldn't be her number one choice, but we won't always be. You don't need to feel guilty. It wasn't like she called us, and we said no, we're busy. She thought Daryl and then went to him. You don't need to feel this way."

She wasn't talking about that night, and she couldn't tell Tara about the letter or the flowers. She would want to get to the bottom of it and find out who sent them and why. She didn't want to deal with it right now. She knew in the back of her mind it was alarming. It called for police action, but her head was clogged with her issues and Carol's. She couldn't process this all. Her head would truly explode. It was heating up already.

Tara studied her suddenly silent girlfriend. "Rosita, if you feel this strongly about it, we can talk about it together. All three of us."

"Forget it." She turned away from Tara. "I didn't sleep well last night. I just...need to sit down and have some water, clear my thoughts."

"Are you sure that's all this is?"

"Yeah." She didn't look at Tara, simply grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and left the kitchen. She didn't want to get in a relationship with Tara, because she knew it would end a friendship. It would bring only heartache and anger, and it would leave someone in the dark. She just didn't know that someone would be Carol. This was exactly why she should have said no when all this began. She should have stuck to her guns like she always did. Honestly, what even made Tara so special that she went against her code?

The answer that terrified her.

––

"Hey." Carol sat on the floor in the guest bedroom with little Lauren as Maggie changed her diaper, Rosita and Glenn were setting the table while Tara and Eric gathered the food and Aaron found the "dinner" wine. She decided to call Daryl to see how his evening was playing out. It was that, or help Aaron find the "dinner" wine.

"How's it goin' over there?" Daryl leaned against the counter. "Need an excuse to bail?"

She chuckled. "Not yet."

"Oh...well, just lemme know."

"I will." She picked at the buckle to her boot. "And how are things there? With the family?"

"Merle's trying to grill the turkey, so I'm warmin' up the oven for some pizzas. I brought 'em last night in case this happened again."

"Again?"

"Yeah, he did this last year. Nearly killed us with food posioning. I'm not reliving that."

"I don't blame you. I've had it once, and it's...not pretty."

He bit his bottom lip. "I gotta ask you somethin'."

"What?" She tried not to let dread settle over her heart, but that cold blanket was impossible to fend off.

"Has he been by? Or tried to contact you at all today?"

"No, not today."

"And you're all right?"

She smiled. "Yes, I'm all right."

Maggie glanced at Carol as she smiled like a schoolgirl in love—or at least very elated—and she couldn't help but smile to herself, lifting her daughter up and kissing her forehead. She mouthed to Carol she was done, and Carol nodded as she left.

"Do you have plans with Bri and Amy later?"

"Yeah. I'm havin' dessert there. I'm bringing a store bought pie."

"You could have told me. I would have made you a pie."

"Well, I tell Bri I make it, and she believes me. I won't want to break her heart with someone else's good homemade cooking."

She chuckled. "Okay, but let me know. You might like my pie."

"I think I might like your pie too."

"Y'all are fuckin' gross," came from Merle in the background. "The hell kind of phone sex is that anyway?"

"Shut up!" Daryl threw a pillow at him as it was the only thing in reach. "Asshole."

"I should go," Carol said when the bickering died down, giggling at the sounds of the two brothers.

"You don't have to."

"I do. I have to check the turkey."

"Oh, right. I'll talk to you later then."

"Yeah." She stood up. "Bye."

"Bye."

She departed from the room and passed Rosita, who was walking down towards the master suite. Carol hoped she made it out alive. Eric wasn't in a poor mood, but he was grumpy at the moment. He wasn't the greatest guy to be around when he was like this, so she hoped he didn't chew Rosita's head off. She would prepare the wine in case it went to shit. Eric was a gentle man, but something was bugging him, and when something bugged him, he was not gentle. He was brash and terse. So was Rosita when people got her nerves, so it might make for an explosive combination. She hoped not. She just wanted a happy family meal. And if not happy then at least peaceful. She hoped that wasn't too much to ask for.

Rosita knocked on the door before opening it, finding Eric sighing deeply while Buttons tried to cheer him up, and she offered him a warm smile. One he didn't respond with his normal bubbly energy and warmth. Whatever happened between him and Aaron was cutting deep. She hoped she was qualified for this conversation. Relationship issues were not her area of expertise. She might have to call Boss in on this. Or Glenn at least.

"Trouble in paradise?" She stood before him, arms folded loosely.

"Yeah." He rolled his eyes to the side, his brows flicking upward, and he blew out a pitiful sigh through his nose.

"What's going on? Anything you care to share?" She lowered herself down beside him on the bed, instantly attacked by Buttons, who wanted to play. She grasped the end of the toy and held it while he yanked and yanked, growling and trying to be fierce but only coming across as so adorable. She had to resist the urge to scoop him up and kiss his little face. However she had a friend to support so cute doggo could wait.

"New day, same problem." He looked over at her. "I'd rather not talk about it today. It's an important day. Lauren's first Thanksgiving, and it's ours with her in our family. The same for Buttons here. I want to focus on that, you know?"

She nodded. "Absolutely."

"But I'd love to talk about it over lunch. We haven't had lunch together since...when?"

"Before little Lauren was born." She smirked when Buttons plopped down and pretended to be uninterested in the toy before lunging at it. "It'd be nice to meet up."

"Why don't we? We can grab a few drinks and talk. Just like old times."

She smiled. "You mean, just like best times."

He chuckled. "Exactly."

"I'm free tomorrow. I have a doctor's appointment, so I won't be at work."

"Great. I'll meet you afterward."

"Same old, same old?" she inquired.

"Let's shake it up. I know a little bistro that has margaritas to die for."

"Send me the directions, and I am there." She let Buttons have his toy, and he went to town on it, chewing it and yanking it around, growling happily. "But only after you and Aaron make up. You're our model couple, so model for us."

"It's not that easy."

"I didn't say it was, but it's not going to get any better with you in here. Talking it out might not help, but space definitely won't. You just...have to find your footing in this argument or disagreement and go from there. You two have come so far, and I'd hate to see you fight. It's like when my parents fought when I was a kid." She set a hand over his. "Your love for each other is bigger than any fight, okay? You two always come out stronger through everything, so...come out stronger for this."

He grinned at her. "Look at you, dealing our relationship advise and wise words. I never thought I'd see the day."

"Well, someone has to be there to have margaritas with my bittter ass, and you can't be bitter too. That's my job," she brushed it off.

"And you do it so well." That was from Aaron, who stood in the door with a soft smile on his face as he peered in on his husband and dear friend.

Eric looked at him. "Dinner's ready?"

He bobbed his head yes. "We're waiting on you two."

"Come on. We shouldn't keep them waiting." Rosita stood up, still holding Eric's hand, and she turned toward him. "You know how the girls get when you put Aaron's grandma's greens in front of them. Plus we have Annette's cornbread, which is frigging delicious."

"Especially when you put them together," Aaron commented.

"Some things just go better together than others," Eric agreed, squeezing Rosita's hand as he rose. "Let's go. We can talk more at lunch tomorrow."

They joined their family for a Thanksgiving fest with a begging puppy and a baby who wanted more than the food given to her. There was some tension between the hosts, but it was nothing good food and good jokes couldn't erase. The feeling of family was powerful one, and it encircled the group, the love and fervent joy of simply being together softening the air and the mood. It was truly a perfect dinner. It was one to be remembered and brought up at later Thanksgivings.

Though, if he had his way, there wouldn't be any later Thanksgivings. This would be the last one, and thinking back on it would only bring about heartache. Bitterness. A twisted smirk crossed his lips. A foul taste in their throats he hoped they choked on...

– – –

Rosita left her gynecologist's office, heading out to meet Eric for lunch and hoping this place was like a sauna. She loved the snow for its looks, but not its feel. She was freezing to the bone, and she just wanted to curl up in front of a fireplace in a big sweater and a fluffy blanket and nap. It sounded like heaven, and it was why she wanted to buy a house with a fireplace. She had one in her childhood home, but not in her current apartment. Soon, she hoped, she would buy a house and settle down in front of that beautiful, toasty fire on frigid early winter afternoons like this. It would be sheer bliss.

She scurred inside the building to be greeted by a friendly hostess, and she was directed to the proper table to find both Aaron and Eric waiting for her. She tugged her beanie off, smiling a little less than she would have had she only found Eric there. Oh, well. The more the merrier. Or so they say.

"Hey." Eric pushed a drink her way. "We ordered this for you."

"Thanks." She shimmed out of her coat and hung it on the back of her chair. "Looks good."

"It is." Aaron cleared his throat. "Sorry to crash your lunch, by the way."

"It's no problem." Rosita crossed her legs. "I'm a little surprised, but it's okay." She thought she and Eric would have some good old fashioned girl talk. She hadn't had any in far too long, and Eric was the best supplier of it. She didn't know how they'd talk about his issues with Aaron if he was right there, but maybe he'd just get creative. Or Rosita was in for one awkard ass lunch. That could by why they thought her a drink. Oh, boy.

After watching Rosita practically suck down half her drink, Aaron let out a deep breath while Eric pretty much bounced in his seat. After talking it out last night, they had come to same conclusion, the same one they'd always had, and now it would become...a reality. That, or they were in for an awkward ass conversation and possibly the end of a long familiar relationship. God, he was stressed out.

Rosita observed as Aaron finished off his drink, and she had the urge to run. Run far and run fast before they could call out to her or catch up to her. She could outrun Eric, no problem. But Aaron? Boy was fast. She'd have to break into her endurance to outrun him. _Or,_ she chided herself _, she could be the adult that she was and listen to whatever the hell they had to say like an adult._

"What sounds good?" Eric asked.

"Huh?" Rosita blinked.

"You've been staring at the menu for ten minutes. I thought you might know what you wanted."

"Oh, no. Not yet." She plucked the cherry out of her drink and ate it. "How about you?"

"A salad oughta do. We had a birthday party at work, so I had some food there before I left."

"He brought home enough leftovers to feed us for a week," Aaron tossed in.

"It's a big office," Eric lightly argued.

"Or you jacked all their food."

Rosita snickered.

"It wasn't like they marked it as theirs," he muttered.

"My husband," Aaron said softly with adoration in every word, his filled with such love that Rosita's heart ached with jealousy.

Eric blushed slightly.

"You guys are making my teeth hurt," Rosita teased, resting her chin in her palm. "Don't make me schedule a dentist appointment too. I've been prodded enough."

"Okay, why don't we talk about something else?" Eric suggested. "How's your day going?"

"Good so far. I'm not dealing with any murders, and I'm healthy. I have dinner plans with my family tonight." She smiled. "And I'm with you guys right now, so it's good."

Eric beamed. "That's great."

They talked for a while about nothing really important, the waitress took their order, and Rosita was surprised at how good the food was. The drinks were awesome, the food was great, and the service was pretty good too. She would have to bring her cousins here sometime. Or Carol. Maybe she could bring her new beau. Ooh, there was an interesting idea.

"Hey, Rosita."

She swallowed and felt the lightness of the lunch die away. She prepared herself for what was to come. "Yeah?"

Eric glanced at his husband, who reached over and laced their fingers together, a gesture of support, and Eric cleared his throat. "There's something we want you to know."

"I'm all ears."

"We've always talked about it. Since we first started dating, when we got engaged, after we were married...after we adopted Buttons," Eric spoke. "It's always been in our plans. We've both wanted this for so long, and yes, we may have cold feet, but at the end of the day, we want this without a shadow of a doubt."

Rosita nodded him on.

"We want a baby," Eric stated flat out.

"Oh, wow. That's...wow." She laughed nervously at being unable to verbalize anything. "Huh."

"Yeah," Aaron agreed. _Just wait_ , he thought to himself.

Eric moistened his lips. "We've thought about it for months—maybe even years, if we're being honest—but we want you to be our surrogate."

Her jaw hit the table.

"Glenn and Maggie have been great with letting us babysit Lauren," Eric built their case. "We've learned a lot from them and from our other friends who have kids, so we'll be able to tend to the baby's needs. We're in a good spot financially, and mentally and emotionally, we're ready. Physically, yes, but once the baby's here, that'll likely drop."

She didn't laugh—and her mouth was still hanging out.

"I know it's a lot to ask. It may be too much to ask, but...you're all we have. We couldn't ask Maggie, and we can't ask Tara. We were going to ask Carol, but everything happened with Shane and now this new man is in her life. We don't want to scare him off, and we couldn't put her in a situation like that. But you're not married. You're not in a brand new relationship with someone who doesn't know us. You're like family. You won't screw us over. We trust you so much...and..." Fear seeped into Eric's heart at Rosita's stunned silence. "And I just...really hope you'll think about it before you decide anything. Please."

Aaron studied her. "Rosita?"

She shut her mouth so hard her teeth smacked together loudly and almost painfully. She was standing. "Wait, wait. What? How? Me? For you? A child? In...inside... What?" She collasped back into her seat. "Huh?"

"It's really quite simple."

"Simple?" Rosita exclaimed under her breath. "There is nothing simple about any of this, Eric Raleigh!"

"Calm down, please, let us explain."

"No, I will not. I need air." She shot out of her seat, leaving her coat behind, and she stepped into the cold. She shuddered and hugged herself. What the shit? What the acutal shit just happened? Holy fuck. A surrogate? Her? Carry their child to term and then give birth to him or her? Then give this child to them? Her child? Her child and Aaron's? Or Eric's? Or, maybe both. Who the hell knew what they could do these days with an egg and some sperm. Fuck.

She crouched down so that her knees were pressed into her chest, and she sucked in cold air, shaking as cold wind blew at her thin top. She wasn't ready for that. She thought they would adopt. She had no idea they wanted children they shared DNA with. She had no idea she would be asked to carry their child. She had no idea about any of this. She thought this would be a nice, normal lunch with friends and some light booze. She didn't ask for this. She didn't want this. She didn't know how to answer this. She didn't want these fucking options thrown at her: carry a child for her friends or cause the such agony. She couldn't do this. She couldn't. She wouldn't. Fuck! How could they do this to her?

God, and Tara! How could they do this to her? Make her do this to Tara? How could they ask this of her? Shit. It was too much. It was way, way to fucking much. She didn't even know if she wanted to have kids of her own one day, let alone have a child for someone else, no matter how much she loved them and wanted them to have a family of their own. She couldn't do this. There was simply no way she could do this. She couldn't. There was no other way to word it. She could not do this.

A coat came down on her shoulders, she looked up to find Aaron standing there, and she felt her eyes burn at having to break his heart. He stuffed his hands into his pocket, wearing only his sweater, as the coat he'd given her was his own, and he inhaled the icy noon Philadelphia air. He didn't look at her, and she felt sick to her stomach.

"I'm still on the fence about having children," he admitted, "but Eric really wants to be a father. He's there in every way anybody can be. He always has been. He's pushed it back and pushed it back for me. I have so many doubts, so many fears. I don't know. It gives me anxiety to think about bringing a baby home from the hospital, but I won't be alone. I'll have Eric. I also have some experience with babies and with kids, and I know—I know—once I'm holding my son or my daughter...it won't matter if I'm unprepared; because I'll do my best to cover any flaws I'll have with my parenting skills. And my best will always be a hundred times better than my parents' subpar.

"Through their failings, I've become a better person, and I'll become a better parent. I'll teach my kid that nothing has to be hidden about themselves, and I'll make sure they feel safe and loved at all times. I won't...I won't let them question if my love or respect them will falter if they're not "normal" or that they're value will shrink because they're not "how I think they should be". I'll make sure they know how great individuality is and how important it is to be true to yourself, because at the end of the day that's all that matters. It took me a long time to learn that lesson, so I'll be sure my kid doesn't have quite the same struggle with it."

She peered up at him, the tears bunching up on her lashes.

"I know we're asking a lot of you and your body," he continued. "We know asking Carol would have been easier. Shane wouldn't have minded. Neither would she, but the situation has changed. I want her to be with Daryl and simply enjoy it. She deserves it."

"She does."

"And you deserve the same with Tara," he added, and she stared. "I'm not an idiot. I've noticed something's changed between the two of you, and I kinda had you pegged back in the academy. I just didn't say anything. Sexuality is a spectrum, and it takes time sometimes to figure out exactly where you fall. Homosexual, heterosexual, asexual, bisexual, pansexual... It's a lot of pressure, trying to figure yourself out when you pretty much grow up only seeing straight and gay—if you look in the right places."

She paled.

"I won't say anything, and I'm not going to use it to blackmail you into having my child, but before you say no, think about it. That's all I ask. Sleep on it. Maul it over. Chew on it. Then talk to us." He looked at her now. "It's all we can ask."

"Aaron—"

He put a finger to his lip and smiled softly behind it. "Think on it, please."

She lowered her eyes and stood up, hugging his coat tighter to her. "Okay. I'll think on it."

"Thank you." He dropped his hand. "Even if it's a no, I'd rather it be a thought out no than an implusive no."

She could only nod.

"We've paid for the lunch, and Eric got you a to-go box. Do you want me to get it and your coat?"

"No. I'll get them." She handed him his coat back. "I just... I should see Eric myself before I leave."

"Okay."

She slipped back inside the restaurant, Eric was signing the merchant's copy of the recent, and his eyes tentatively moved to Rosita. She collected her things and waited for him to finish his signature. She walked around to where he was now standing, and she hugged him. She was worried this might be the last time she saw him on good, friendly terms, so she held him even tighter.

"Don't worry," he whispered, "this won't chase me off. You're struck with me for life, Rosita Espinosa."

She wanted to smile, but even if they remained friends, it would be soured by this. It would be tainted, and it would never be the same. She truly hated change. Change wasn't always for the best, and this might prove how awful change could be.

– –

Rosita dragged a hairbrush through her freshly washed air, staring at the wall with no real interest in anything, and she was losing track of time and reality. She didn't even notice when Tara was standing in her living room with concern etched onto her face.

"Rosita?" She spoke softly, as if speaking to a rattled victim, and Rosita's eyes slowly found hers. "Hey."

"How'd you get in?"

"You left your door unlocked. Actually, you hardly closed it." She sat beside her. "Carol and I are about to go to the movies. We wanted to know if you wanted to come with us."

"No, thanks."

"You sure? It's a horror film. It's gotten good reviews, and you love theater popcorn. I'd sneak you some out, but Carol and I are gonna tear into it—"

"Eric and Aaron want me to be their surrogate," she blurted.

"Wow, I thought the clif hanger at the end of the movie would be the biggest shock of my night." Carol's eyes were wide as she entered the living room. She just came in to pee. She didn't expect this.

"Yeah." Rosita set the hairbrush in her lap.

"What did you say?" Tara eyed her.

"They want me to think on it, but honestly...I have no answer. I thought I did, but..." She shrugged. "I really don't. I don't know what to say or think or feel. My head is a mess, and my heart hurts, because if I say no, I know how badly it'll hurt them. I know how much pain it'll cause these two amazing people that are like family to me."

"Rosita, they won't hate you or act diffently towards you if you say no." Carol sat beside her. "This is a huge request of you and your body, and you have every right to say no."

"I know that, but Carol, I know them. They want a child, and they want part of me in that child. I'm flattered and afraid. He or she won't be mine, but...they will be partly mine under the surface, and I don't know how to handle that."

"So, you've thought about saying yes?" Tara inquired.

"Some questions and scenarios just pop into my head," she weakly muttered. "They wanted Carol."

"I know." Carol picked up the towel from the coffee table and began to towel dry Rosita's long hair. "We talked about it a bit, Eric and me, but things happened the way they did, and they chose you."

"I feel like second best."

"You're never second to anybody," Carol corrected. "You were an option, just like I was. I'm off the table. And you can be too. They have other friends. They just trust you a lot more with this."

"Thanks for the guilt." It came out a lot harsher than Rosita intended.

"It's the truth." She wrapped Rosita's hair up in the towel and stood up. "You won't chicken out, or keep the baby and run away. You won't demand your rights. You're strong, so you'll be fine throughout the pregnancy and delivery. You'll have a healthy baby. Those are the facts. You won't be a mom. You won't have a child, just a niece or nephew who will love you and the shared culture you can teach them."

Rosita hadn't thought about that.

"I wish it had been me," Carol admitted. "I always had my answer. Back then, anyway, but now it's your decision and yours alone. I can give you all the pros and cons in the world, but when it comes down to it, Rosita, it's your choice. You'll endure the pregnancy, you'll endure labor, and you'll endure the heartache of knowing that sweet little baby won't be going home with you. You'll have...a lot to deal with during and after, whether you say yes or no, and it might be best if we left you to think on it."

"You do have that movie to get to."

"We can ditch the movie," Tara told her.

"No, Carol's right. It's my decision, and I need to think about it." She wet her lips. "Maybe you can swing by after the movie, tell me all about it."

"We'll bring you some candy." Carol smiled affectionately at her friend. "Just take it slow. It's a big decision."

"Thank you."

"Come on." Carol patted Tara's shoulder on her way by, heading downstairs to the car.

Rosita peeked at Tara nervously, feeling her guts knotting at the blank expression on her face.

"Give us a call." Tara stepped back, almost hitting the wall before turning away and following after Carol.

Rosita felt her eyes burn, and she stood up to change into actual clothing when the doorbell rang. She wiped at her eyes and answered it, finding a bouquet of yellow roses just outside her door with the same card as the flowers that came the other day. She swallowed hard, seeing a letter underneath it in the same pretty handwriting. She leaned over and slipped the letter out from underneath the vase, picking it up and bringing it inside. She poured the water out and trashed the flowers and the vase, peeling open the envelope to read what was written inside.

 _Hello again, Rosita. It seems you have quite a decision to make. Such friends you have, asking so much of you. I'd say you need better ones, and perhaps one day you will. I'm fairly cerain of it. You need good friends in the world. Ones you can trust, not like Aaron and Carol. No, not like them at all._

 _Carol is a lair. Lairs cannot be trusted. They will withhold information for their own gain and destroy someone else's world without a second thought if it benefited them. You can't be involved with a person like her. The secrets she keeps are far too vital. If she cannot trust you with her greatest pain, how can she trust you with her smallest? You are worth so much more and deserve so much better._

 _And as for Aaron... Well, let's just say you don't want your child being cuddled by blood-covered hands, now, do you? You need strong, loving, nurturing hands to hold a child, not like Aaron's. He is, after all, a child killer._

 _I doubt you knew that, but that case back in 2010? The one where a fifteen-year-old's mother and brother were killed, and their father was behind it? Aaron killed the boy in cold blood in an alley and painted it as though it were self-defense. As if a grown man couldn't fend off a fifteen-year-old boy would having to resort to such fatal means. But he did. He shot him right between the eyes without even batting an eyelash. Aaron doesn't deserve to be anything but in prison, rotting for his crimes._

 _Ah, that's all the time we have right now, but I'll be seeing you, my dear. Perhaps not as soon as I'd like, but later is better than never. Take care, my sweet Rosea. Until next we meet._


	24. Precious Rest

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

It had been months since the flowers had come, since the letters came. Since then Rosita had tried to keep up a strong front. She tried finding him on her own. She reviewed the cameras in her building. She spoke with the flower company. She even went as far as to try and stake the company out, but she didn't get very far. She kept getting calls from Boss and from Tara, which lead to this.

Boss had put her on a week leave. She had began to derail from the paranoia. She tried to keep it under lock and key, but it kept spilling over. She went too far in interviews, feelings eyes that weren't there on her back, wondering if her next ordered meal was drugged and that's when he would swoop down and take her. She couldn't sleep because of it. She had tried medication, but it didn't help. It just made her black out, and she was too scared of what she would wake up to, so she cut those out of her nightly routine.

Ha. Nightly routine. It consisted of downing an entire bottle of pills and blacking out now and then. She could hardly keep her eyes open at work. She'd learned to take naps at her desk, feeling safe there among friends, but she was slacking on her job. She didn't blame Boss for putting her on leave. She could have slept through a shoot out and wouldn't know it until someone tackled her to the ground for her own safety, and even then...rousing her was becoming difficult.

So that led to where she was now. She was in Carol and Tara's apartment, eating a healthy meal Carol had prepared for her, and she was about to pass out in Carol's bed with her. Tara was out following a lead with Aaron, and Carol called her over to the apartment talk. They'd yet to talk, just eat and enjoy the silence. It was nice, and Rosita was so thankful. She couldn't find the words to express her gratitude, and she had a feeling she wouldn't need to. God, she hoped she wouldn't need to, or it'd all come spilling out. She didn't want to go down that baby truth road with Carol right now. She just didn't have the mental, physical or emotional capacity for that right now.

Carol covered her up with a blanket. "I'm gonna be right in the living room, reading over the files. You'll hear me breaking pens when I chew them to death and then spit out the ink, so try and ignore that."

"Wait." Rosita grasped her wrist. "Could you...stay with me for a bit? Please?"

"Sure." She climbed onto the bed, Rosita rolled over and put her head in her lap, and Carol smiled sorrowfully down at her friend. She knew this well. Vulnerability. It was how she was as a child. At even the smallest hint of kindness, she opened herself wide. Luckily she had met the right people along the way who didn't misuse her vulnerability. They helped to shape her and protect her, helped her stand on her own feet. So she understood. She didn't have the answers, but rest was always a plus.

Rosita had been so worn and so exhausted here lately, so to watch her eyes shut and to hear her breathing even out, it was amazing. Carol stroked her hair to let her know she was still beside her, watching over her, ready to battle any demons Rosita feared might come. She didn't know what demons Rosita had, but they were plenty of demons Carol had that nobody knew about. She wouldn't press. She wouldn't speak. She would simply be here. She would keep her calm and let her rest. The demons and worries of tomorrow could wait. Sleep couldn't.

– – –

Tara and Aaron rolled into the bullpen, Glenn and Boss were discussing the lead they had followed, and Tara's eyes fell on the empty desk in the corner, her heart tightening. She couldn't let it show right now. She had to keep up a strong front. She would talk to Rosita later. She wanted to be there now, but Carol had been so adamant. She would trust in her best friend to be there with the woman she...

"Any news?" Glenn slid off the desk.

"Dead end. He wasn't our doer." Aaron dragged a hand through his hair. "And he threatened to file a lawsuit for harassment against us. Prick."

"How about you guys? Any news?" Tara folded her arms over her chest.

"We might have found some footage from the street she was taken from, but we'll have to sweet talk Jacqui down in the lab."

All eyes turned to Tara, who's face went slack with annoyance, and out came their pleading faces. Jacqui from the lab was pretty awesome. She was tough and ruled over all those nerds down there. She was the best to watch. She was super nice, but her backbone was made of steel. She had moods when her current case chapped her hide and she took it out any requests given to her. She had people under her who could do it just as well, but Jacqui had heart. She made sure she went above and beyond to clear up an image, to clarify a license plate, to smooth out that one blurry pixel to give them the lead they needed. It was just the Jacqui touch, and they needed that right now. Desperately.

"Why me though?" Tara groaned.

"Because out of all of us, you're the best at charming women," Aaron stated. "I mean, Boss is thrice divorced. I'm only good at charming my husband, and it's a miracle Glenn and Maggie even happened. You are our only option here."

She heaved a sigh. "Fine, but you owe me dinner. And I do mean with tablecloths."

"Yes, madame." He gave a sweeping bow. "I shall escort you to the elevator, my lady."

She snickered. "Please don't." She flicked his forehead and headed to the elevator, thinking how to charm the Lab Queen.

"How long until Rosita's back to normal?" Glenn asked the group once Tara was out of earshot.

"I don't know. After she nearly choked our last suspect...I think it'll be a while." Aaron crossed his arms. "I don't know what's going on with her lately, but we should find out. We can't let Tara know we're investigating Rosita. She'll flip shit."

"Why?" That was from Glenn.

Boss chuckled. "You really need to work on that fake obliviousness, Rhee."

"I'm trying." Glenn puffed. "Maggie really wants to move out of our place, but I don't know. I don't think it's a good time. Middle of winter, this case, Rosita... It's too much stress for me right now."

"Then talk to your wife about that," Boss told him.

Glenn chuckled. "And this is why you're thrice divorced."

Boss lightly whacked him on the back of his head and headed into his office.

"Look, let's just focus on this case. Once it's out of the way, we can focus on your moving issues and Rosita."

"And figuring out how in hell Rosita and Tara thought they could keep their relationship from us," Glenn added. "We're cops!"

"We'll give 'em hell for it when they're ready to tell us," Aaron assured him. "Let's go find a kidnapper. We're running out of time."

"Aren't we always?" Glenn mumbled, snagging his coat as they hurried out of the office.

"Our motto should be "maybe we'll get lucky this time"."

"Can't. It already belongs to the Belcher's."

"Well, damn."

"Doable, but run it by Boss."

He chuckled. "Let's go."

– – –

"You've been working this case for how long now?" Jacqui sat at her table, legs crossed, waiting for her computer to finish the analysis of the cold unit's current musty case.

"A couple days," Tara mumbled, "but had we known how difficult it would be, we would have come to you instantly. We just thought we could...handle it. Then Rosita went... We're short-handed right now, and we really need a new lead. Please."

"And you've gone straight to begging. It must be serious." She uncrossed her legs and swiveled her chair around. "Let me finish with this, and I'll get to work on yours. Rush is as impatient as ever."

"Don't let her hear you say that," a voice came from behind them.

Jacqui smirked. "You're even less patient than her."

"True." He returned her smirk with a dazzling million dollar smile. "Tara, right?"

"So they tell me." She smiled back. "Hey."

"If you have a minute, I'd like to talk to you about somethin'."

"I can't right now. I have to rush this, and then I have to catch up to my partner. We're on a time sensitive case. I'm sorry."

"Nah, it's all right, just lemme know when you have time." He gave a nod. "I actually have a case too, and my wife'll ride my ass if I don't hurry this up."

"Oh, ride your ass, do I?"

Scotty chuckled nervously at the sound of his wife's voice. "Lil."

"Oh, don't stop talking about me just because I'm here now. I'd love to know what Scotty Valens thinks of his wife."

"I just meant on the job, Lil. You did it before we were married." He looked to Jacqui for support, but she threw her hands up like _Nope_ and returned to her work.

Lilly walked by him and over to Jacqui. "How's it coming?"

"It's coming. Give me about ten more minutes of silence, and it'll be here."

She nodded. "We'll get some coffee. Come on, Valens." She sauntered out of the room, ponytail bouncing the whole way.

"Thanks a lot, Jacqui." Scotty sent her a slight glare. "I can already hear the day bed callin' to me."

Tara snickered under her breath.

"This is why I didn't get married." She winked at Scotty. "Don't worry, pretty boy, she'll forgive you. She's having your baby, after all."

Tara blinked. "She's pregnant?"

"Yeah, announce it to the whole office, why don't you?" Scotty groaned. "We're tryin' to keep it under wraps. Why can't anybody here keep a damn secret?"

"Because we need something to pick at other than dead bodies," Tara offered.

"Yeah, just wait till you're pregnant and the entire office finds out." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Lil's real private, so keep it to yourselves. Please."

"My lips are always sealed." Jacqui's eyes locked onto her screen, narrowing at a new object that might help Rush's case.

"I have more important things going on in my life." Tara met his eyes. "Congrats, and don't worry so much. You two are a power couple. It gives us losers hope."

"I think you've got more than enough in that department." He winked at her before he ambled out of the room.

"Wait, what?" Tara frowned. Did he know? How could he know? Nobody knew. Or...she hoped nobody knew... Oh, no.

"You're cops, Chambler, how many secrets do you actually have hidden?" Jacqui remarked.

"Oh, shit."

"Yep."

"I gotta go."

"I'll call you with the results," Jacqui called after the retreating detective, resting her chin on her palm. Oh, to be young and in love, she mused to herself. Perhaps this relationship would fair better than Tara's past ones. It was the hope of every cop to find someone, and some cops...found each other. Like Rush and Valens, and maybe even Espinosa and Chambler. That might be rushing things a bit, and that was one thing she didn't do, so she'd just let it settle and return to her very full schedule.

––

Rosita was curled up in a ball, face buried in a pillow, drool caked along the corner of her mouth, hair a massive tangled mess. She looked so adorable and peaceful. She'd been sleeping for nine straight hours. Carol had slipped free about six hours ago and left a pillow doused in her perfume in her place. Every now and then when Rosita would stir, she would stroke her hair or tug on her blanket to let her know she was safe and not at all alone. It would ease her instantly, and she'd pass back out. It reminded Carol of her childhood, but that was a door she didn't want to open.

There was a knock on the door, Carol stood up from her little nest of notes and groaned at how numb her ass and legs were before stumbling down the hall to answer the door. She found Daryl on the other side and smiled widely at him. She wasn't expecting any visitors.

"Hey." She kissed him. "What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd check on you." He grasped her hips. "And I was in the neighborhood."

"I see, so you're on the clock then?"

"Just a bit." He smirked. "What're you up to?"

"Helping a friend rest, so maybe we should step out into the hall." She hadn't shut the bedroom door and didn't want to wake the corpse in the next room.

"I won't be here that long."

"Oh." That was disappointing.

"I just wanted to see if you'd like to get somethin' to eat tonight."

She perked up. "I'd love to." She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Where?"

"A real restaurant, no place mats or peanut shells."

"Wow, raising the bar. I'm impressed."

He chuckled. "I'll pick you up at nine, wear somethin'...nice."

"Only if you do." She smirked.

"I'll try."

"Then so will I." She leaned up and kissed him again.

"Ooh, so this is Daryl," came a voice from behind them.

Carol blushed and whirled around to find Rosita standing in the hallway, still a wrinkled, sleepy mess, smirking at them like a parent who caught their kid smooching a "friend". "Rosita!"

"Hey." She waved to Daryl. "I'm Rosita, best friend, guardian of Carol, kicker of asses. Nice to meet you."

"Oh, God." She buried her face in her hands.

"I'm...just Daryl." He looked embarrassed. "I—I should go."

"Oh, no, please. Stay. Have coffee. Make out with Carol in the doorway. I think it's the most action her neighbors have seen her have in months."

"Go away." Carol pushed her back into her bedroom and closed the door. "God."

Daryl chuckled awkwardly. "I really oughta go, but I'll see you tonight."

"Yeah, I'm looking forward to it." She held the doorknob to keep Rosita in her room.

Daryl entered the apartment and gave her a kiss goodbye, a kiss that pretty much knocked the wind out of her and left her wanting a hell of a lot more. "Good luck with her."

"Huh?" She looked at him then felt Rosita open the door behind her. "Right, her. Thanks."

"It was nice meeting you." Rosita smiled at him.

"Same to you." He departed, closing the door behind him.

"Someone's in love," Rosita singsonged. "Her name is Car-ol."

"Shut up." She blushed. "I just like him a lot, okay? We've been dating for, like, three months. I can care about him."

"You love him," she continued to tease her friend.

"Shut up." Her blush only worsened.

"It's precious." She stopped teasing and smiled widely. "Three months ago you were miserable, and now, three months later, you're happy and cute with some tall, buff guy on your arm. I am so happy for you, Carol. You two...seem like you got it down, and it's only been three months. I mean, the sex must be incredible. I mean, your endurance coupled with his bod... Nice."

Carol swallowed and shifted her feet.

"What? Is it bad?"

"No, it's not bad. I mean, it could be bad, but...I don't... I mean, we haven't... There are just so many other things—"

"You haven't slept with him yet?" Rosita exclaimed. "In _three_ months?! What the hell do you two do on dates? Play _Scrabble_?"

"No. We talk. We—we have fun. We do...things. It's not like we haven't done things."

"I don't need details."

"I just want to wait, and he doesn't seem in a rush either. Taking it slow isn't always a negative thing. After Shane, I need some slowness. Daryl is...amazing and honoring that for me. Please, don't knock it or him. I trust him, okay?"

"Then...I trust him. Until proven guilty, I trust him, and I'm happy you're happy. I mean that. You two are cute, and I'm sure when the time comes, it'll be great."

She smiled. "Thank you, Rosita."

"You're welcome." She wiped the drool caking her cheek. "Let me shower so you can catch me up to speed on this case."

"I'll put on some coffee and cut into that cake I picked up yesterday."

Rosita stopped in the hall and called to her. "Uh, hey, Carol?"

"Yeah?" Carol met her eyes.

"Thank you." She smiled softly. "For being here for me without...all the questions. Thank you."

She returned her smile and closed the space between them, hugging her tightly. "It's what family's for, and you did the same for me after I had my heart broken. I owed you." She squeezed her tightly twice and released her. "Shower. You'll feel so much better."

"Slice me a huge slice of cake. Like as big as those small plates you own."

"You got it."

Rosita stepped into the shower, Carol made a pot of coffee, and eventually Tara came home. She dropped like a heap onto the couch and groaned into the pillows, Carol laughed at her, and Tara rolled onto the floor by accident, groaning even more.

"Long day?"

"Long. Rough. Led to nowhere." She didn't bother to move. "How about you?"

"Long. Rough. Led to embarrassment and nine hours of sleep."

"That's awesome. I am so proud of you. Good work."

She laughed and helped her up. "I'm gonna catch her up on the case. She won't work for another couple days, but she might as well be in the know, you know?"

"We could use a fresh pair of eyes, that's for sure." She stretched. "Do I smell coffee?"

"Yep."

"Give me the whole pot. I mean, just pour it into my mouth."

"Sorry, but at least half of that is mine." Rosita stepped out of the bathroom, drying her hair. "And so is that cake."

"Ooh, cake, coffee and crime scene photos. My favorite Cs," Tara jested. "Is there any confetti? 'Cause it'll feel like my birthday all over again."

"Sorry, not on the menu, but I can offer you cold pizza."

"I'll take it."

Carol slipped into the kitchen then to prepare the plates and the notes they'd gathered on the case.

"Hey." Tara didn't make any moves towards her. "How are you?"

"A little tired, a little starving, and a lot of clean. I just scrubbed my teeth for about an hour in there." She was glad Carol had packed some of her things for this little sleepover. She was beyond grateful to have her own robe and toothbrush and company. It was beautiful to have comfort things and her friends so nearby. It was perfect.

She nodded. "Carol makes strong coffee, so you won't be sleepy for long."

"That's good to know." She walked over to Tara, setting her hands on her shoulders and sliding them down to grasp her hands. She held them tightly and inhaled. "I have...a lot to talk to you about, but I need some time to get it all straightened out. I need you to trust me, no matter what, okay?"

"I already do, Rosita." She searched her eyes. "You are one of the few people on this earth that I trust wholeheartedly. Take as much time as you need, but know that if you need me, I'm always gonna be here. Friend or not...together or not...I'm here with you and for you. You don't...know how much you mean to me, do you?"

"I think I'm starting to understand how you feel," she confessed shyly. "Give me time on that, too."

"Whatever it takes to get through that thick skull of yours." She let go of her hand to cup her cheek, Rosita leaned into the touch, and Tara stroked her cheekbone with her thumb. "I believe in good things happening in time, so I'll wait."

"Tara—"

She placed a light kiss to her forehead. "I'll wait." She slowly let go of her hand and her cheek and stepped back towards the kitchen. She shared the most loving and gentle smile with Rosita before turning on her heel and joining Carol in the kitchen.

Rosita felt her heart melt, a smile spread across her lips, and she turned towards the bathroom door to dry off and change into actual clothing. She glanced once more at the doorway where Tara had disappeared through and her smile widened as she closed the bathroom door.


	25. Glass Walls

_A/N: I would like to apologize to all who read or are currently reading this story. I had plans to update this on my five year anniversary, but I've been caught up with work and my health issues, and I am so sorry for the major delay on this story._

* * *

 ** _Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

"I don't think a big Christmas party is going to be a good idea." Glenn sat on the edge of Aaron's desk, fiddling with the only work issued tablet their department had been given while stating his input on the holiday parties to come. "Or New Years Eve. I mean, getting drunk was fun before we had Lauren, but dealing with a hangover and a five month old is brutal. It's actual hell."

"Who said you had to drink in the first place?" Tara sat beside Carol at Carol's desk, sharing the lunch she'd ordered while finishing up paperwork from their previous case.

"It's a work party. Of course I'd have to drink." He glanced around the doorways to ensure any uniforms didn't hear that. "I love you guys, but a lot of unis are...boring and romantize our job. It's not all it's cracked up to be."

"That's true."

"Well, we have to do something to celebrate Lauren's first Christmas and the coming New Year." Carol tapped her pen on the desk. "We can't just stay at home. I want to see Lauren with the gifts I bought her. And you guys."

"I know. I do, too, but you won't fit in our apartment. Hell, _we_ barely fit." He grumbled the last bit.

"Look who's finally agreeing with his wife." Rosita used his shoulder as an armrest, coming back from visiting the warehouse where all closed cases were filed. "I'm so proud of you." She'd only caught half of the conversation, but she'd fit in where she could.

"Yeah, I do see some of Maggie's points," he confessed. "I had to brush my teeth and shave in the kitchen, because Maggie had to give Lauren a bath then get ready for work."

"Why couldn't Beth give her bath?" Carol asked, knowing the youngest Greene had popped over for the holidays since Hershel and Annette had decided to spend Christmas with some old friends. They would spend the actual day with Glenn and Maggie and their granddaughter, but the weeks leading up to it were spent with friends, so Beth came early.

"Blowout diaper. Beth wouldn't go there." He blew out a sigh. "I offered, but I was already dressed. Maggie didn't have to be in till ten, so she bathed her. I'm lucky I was even able to get my own toothbrush." He was still unsure it was his. He just hoped it wasn't Beth's. He'd used Maggie's before by accident, and while he wasn't okay with sharing a toothbrush, he'd rather it be with his wife than his sister-in-law.

"Why don't you just give in and shop for a house?" Aaron rested his chin on his knuckles. "You need a room for Lauren, a guest bedroom, a master bedroom, two baths. It's not that out of price range."

"Do you know what they pay us?" Came from both Tara and Rosita, who shared a brief look.

"They have savings. They can borrow from Hershel or, hell, even me if they had to." He turned to his computer. "I know of three different places nearby your work and Maggie's that would suffice."

"You've been house shopping for me, again?"

"Well, somebody had to." He pulled up the first option. "It has a backyard, a fireplace, three bedrooms, two baths. It's smack in the middle of both your and Maggie's jobs."

"Yeah, but how much is it?"

Aaron cleared his throat. "It has a fireplace..."

"See." Glenn shook his head. "Just send me the list, and I'll go over it." He might even show Maggie. He did want to move now that Beth was staying with them, and he had to bunk on his own couch, because she and Maggie fell asleep talking. He just didn't want to admit it, because moving was out of their price range right now, and he didn't want to drown them in debt. He didn't want to ask Hershel for money, or Shawn. Or his own parents. But he might just have to bite the bullet.

"I already did. It's what you spammed."

"Oh." He pulled out his phone and checked the spam folder. "Wow. You did send me a lot of options."

"Well, I'm your partner. It's my job to look out for you, especially when my goddaughter's involved."

"She's not your goddaughter."

"All of your babies—and I mean all of you guys—are my godkids. Legally or not, they're my godkids." He made a circle gesture to the room. "Even when I have two of my own."

Rosita dropped her arm from Glenn's shoulders and cast her eyes to the floor at that, shifting uncomfortably. It spread throughout the room, Tara picked at the teriyaki chicken with her chopsticks, Carol rubbed the back of her neck, Glenn studied the list with a fine toothed comb, and Aaron felt guilty at mentioning that when he and Rosita hadn't talked since last month about it. He didn't expect anything from her. But did she know that?

Just as Aaron opened his mouth, Boss came out of his office with a serious look on his face, and they all turned their attention to him.

"You look glum, chum." Tara tried to lighten the mood, but to no avail.

"Well, I just got the word from cold case," he told them. "Stillman...finally turned in his papers."

"What?" his entire squad exclaimed.

"Yeah." He nodded. "On January 15th, Stillman will no longer be lieutenant of the cold case unit."

"I think I just died." Tara set a hand over her heart. "No, no, I'm alive."

"Why is he leaving?" Carol couldn't believe it. He'd been in that unit since its formation, and he'd been with PPD since he was probably in diapers. What the actual hell? Was this an AU? What was happening?

"He's been with us for a long, long while. He's due his rest." He tucked his hands into his pockets. "We'll be throwing a retirement party for him that night. It'll be...rough to see him go, but all good things must come to an end. We won't be sad. We'll celebrate the years we had with him, and we'll celebrate the promotion of whoever he decides to fill his shoes."

"Wow."

He nodded. "I expect all of you to be there, dressed in black tie attire."

"Of course we will," Aaron replied. "I'd love to see the old guy off. He's been my role model since forever."

"He's more of a father-figure for me," Carol commented.

"And for Rush," Tara murmured. "Dude, she's gonna be crushed."

"Life happens." Rosita shrugged. "You adjust, or you get caught in the tides."

"Doesn't mean you can't feel anything about it," Glenn remarked.

"Just be there at Jone's with kind words and sympathetic smiles." He smirked lightly. "There's an open bar for Stillman leaving, free food, and Jacqui down in the lab has offered to babysit any kids. She doesn't do parties or goodbyes, but she wants people to be able to do them, so Glenn, I expect you there."

"Of course, Boss." He nodded.

"All right. You guys should get home, get some rest. It's late."

"Just finishing up some paperwork." Carol was on her last line.

"All right, but after that, I want you all home. You've worked yourselves to the bone, and I worry." His eyes fell on Rosita, who had been back for a week now, and he was worried, but she was doing just fine. He was proud of her. "Understood?"

"Understood," they all answered.

"Good." He stepped back into his office, glancing at Carol and Tara before closing the door. Hmm. Stillman was retiring, his crew was growing up on him, and things were...different now. It made him question some things. Maybe he'd call his sister, stop by and see his nephew. Yeah, he might just do that.

––

"It's just us tonight." Carol stepped into the apartment, tugging the sleeves of her knit sweater down with her fingertips, and she crossed her arms. "Hence the lack of heat. Holy shit. It's cold as ice."

"Here." Daryl removed his coat and put it across her shoulders, moving around her to turn the heat on.

"Thanks." She slipped her fingers over the collar, tugging it closer and smelling his soap and natural scent. She buried her nose in the scent.

"I'll make some hot chocolate. You said you wanted somethin' sweet?"

"We have that pumpkin spice loaf." She gestured to the discarded box on the end table where there mail sat abandoned.

"Coffee oughta pair well with it."

"True." She stepped closer to him. "But there are other ways we can get warm."

He smirked, bending his head down and kissing her softly. She pushed up on the tips of her toes to be at the same height level as him, her arms moving around his neck, and he cupped her cheek. She felt his coat fall down her shoulders and land on the floor, but she didn't feel the cold much now as his tongue slipped into her mouth. She brought her hands down to his cheeks, and she put her weight onto her chest to move him backwards to her bedroom when the front door closed.

"Sorry." Tara covered her eyes. "I'm just grabbing a couple things."

For the love of... Carol turned around. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here, for one, and for two, I need to pack a bag." She started smiling widely. "Guess who called me."

"I'll go start the coffee," Daryl said before this guessing game began and excused himself to the kitchen.

"Do you know what was about to happen here?" Carol softly hissed. "Seriously?!"

"Lilly called me." Tara was too excited to care. "She wants me to come and see her and Meghan. For Christmas!"

"What?" Carol's anger dissolved, although other parts of her were still pissed at Tara. "That's awesome!"

"It is." She couldn't stop smiling. "She wants me there for the whole week of Christmas, and Boss okay'd it. I haven't seen them for a whole week since before they moved. Do you have any idea how excited I am? I'm already wanting to pack and buy snacks for the trip and gifts!"

"I'm happy for you." She smiled back at her. "I know how much you miss them."

"And the best part?" Tara caught Carol's hands. "Phillip won't be there. He has a business trip out of the country for two weeks for some merger, so it'll just be us. No tension, no interruptions, just me and my niece and my sister for an entire week. Can you believe that? God, I haven't stopped smiling since she called me."

"How did she sound?"

"A little nervous, but she sounded super thrilled. She was talking so quick, trying to get to the "good part"." She laughed. "And Meghan got on there—and she sounds so grown up—and she told me she made up the guest bedroom already she was so ready to have me there."

"Aww."

Tara's eyes fell to Daryl, who peeked in from the kitchen to see if they were still in the midst of an important conversation, and she felt guilty. "I'm sorry. I'll hurry up and pack then I'm out. I'm going to the range to try and work out this nervous energy. Plus, I need to top Aaron's top score. He's meeting me."

"Why pack tonight? Christmas isn't for three weeks, give or take a week."

"So I can get it over with, and I need to kill some time, because Aaron and Eric are having dinner. They're talking about surrogates." She lowered her voice since it was a personal matter. "They might have found one."

"Really?" Her brows shot up. "I thought they were still interviewing people."

"They were, but they found...a perfect person to be their surrogate—outside of you and Rosita, I mean."

"Tell them I wish them all the luck."

"I will."

"And I'm sorry to seem rude, but can you pack tomorrow? I haven't had time with Daryl since before Thanksgiving."

"Yeah, I see the hand action you two were giving each other. You're like teenagers." She was only slightly teasing.

Carol sighed. "I just have plans for us tonight, okay?"

"Plans?" She was about to joke but saw how serious Carol was. "Wait, is tonight, like, _the_ night?"

"I'm trying for it to be."

"Okay, I'll grab some food at Glenn and Maggie's. Let me just get my other coat. It's snowing again, and this one is soaked."

"That's fine. Just, please, don't linger. Kick Aaron's ass, too."

"You know it." She released Carol's hand and went to her room to change her coat and shoes. These made her slide like a motherfucker. It wasn't fun.

"Should I go?" Daryl stood in the hall to the kitchen. "If y'all have stuff to talk about—"

"What? No, no, we have nothing to talk about." She shook her head. "Tara's just changing coats."

"You sure?"

"Of course. I want to spend time with you. I've missed you." She closed the space between them and laced her fingers through his. "Do you want to leave?"

"No. I just don't wanna be in the way."

"You couldn't possibly be in the way." She smiled gently at him. "Do you know how much you mean to me? How could you possibly think you'd be in my way?"

He blushed. "How much do I mean to you?"

She wasn't ready for those words just yet, because the last time she said them, she regretted it. She died inside because of it. She lost part of herself because of it. She just wasn't ready for them, but she had other words. Meaningful words. Truthful words. "You have my heart," she whispered. "I don't want anybody else."

He smiled widely and kissed her, letting go of her hands to cup her face and back up her up against the wall beside them. She gripped his hands and tried to catch her breath, but he wasn't letting that happen. He pushed his body right up against hers, his knee carefully parting her legs, and she was trapped there between the wall and his body.

Tara was about to tell them she was heading out, but at the scene before her, she just bolted the hell out of there, because it was obviously about to get rated R up in that apartment. She saw enough straight sex as a teenager. She didn't want to see it live as an adult. But whoo for Carol, gettin' some.

In the apartment, Daryl's hand were now underneath her sweater, leaving the skin he touched hotter than the sweater ever could. She still couldn't move, but he'd given her lips a small rest as he traced her jaw and nibbled down her neck. She dug her fingers into his shoulder, her other hand resting on his hip, and she couldn't help but squirm underneath him. She wanted more. All the months of not having sex with someone she cared about were hitting her hard, and she felt like a teenager. She wanted him inside of her so badly. God, her entire body was aching for him.

She moaned when his fingers brush along the sensitive skin of her belly revealed by her sweater being pulled up, his fingers traveled down to the button of her jeans, easily undoing the button. His forehead fell on hers, her eyes were still shut, but his were open and watching her reactions. As he unzipped her jeans, her lips parted in anticipation, and his lips curled into a soft smile to the side of his mouth. He watched her swallow when he tugged on the lace of her panties, her breathing escalating, and he kissed her then.

She didn't seem to expect that, but she certainly welcomed it. He could almost taste her desire, and he wanted to show her how he felt. He wanted to do so much to let her know what he felt, but he wasn't good with words. He wasn't all that good with actions either. He knew what she wanted to happen tonight. Hell, her roommate knew, but he wasn't...ready for that. It was a massive step, and he had his own issues with it, so until he found the words, he'd do this.

He pulled back, shifting his leg, and she opened her eyes to look at him. He brought two fingers to his lips, inserting them to moisten them, and he removed them, reaching down between her thighs and finding the area he'd left exposed moments ago. She dug her fingers deeper into his skin, and he found her warm and wet. He'd done this before, so he knew what she liked, but that wasn't what he was trying to do tonight. Not entirely.

When he pulled his fingers out, she frowned and her eyes flickered to his, a question rising in those dark irises. He didn't say anything, simply placed his hands on her hips and tugged on her jeans, her body moving with his motion, and he bent down to move them to her knees, and she nearly stumbled. He caught her waist and balanced her, seeing a blush rising on her face, and he had to admit this could have happened with less fumbling, but...maybe some fumbling was okay.

He kissed her knee gently, seeing some faint scarring there, and he moved to her thigh, stroking the soft skin on her other leg. He looked up at her as he placed a kiss to her inner thigh, and she blushed even more. He glided his hands up her legs to hold her waist, her hands fell over top his, and she lost her breath when his next kiss was on her lips. She nearly collapsed when she felt his tongue, her body tightening at the attention, and she couldn't catch her breath. She was dizzy from the pleasure of it, and she was glad he had a hold of her, because fuck.

She moaned, her head meeting the wall behind her, curls landing in her face, and she gasped for air. "Daryl." She couldn't even think of any other words. "Aah." No other words existed. No other world existed. It was just them in this moment and everything else was...fiction.

– – –

They were on the couch now, Daryl was underneath her on his back, and Carol was lying across his chest, their legs tangled at the end of the couch. A blanket was laid over top them, _The Polar Express_ playing on the TV, providing the only light. One plate littered now with only cake crumbs and a single fork rested on the table between two cups of coffee. Carol was studying him as he half watched the movie, very aware of her eyes, and she decided to speak at last.

"You didn't have to prove anything," she muttered.

"Hmm?" His eyes met her.

"You didn't have to prove anything," she repeated, louder. "Before...in the hall."

"It wasn't about provin' anything." He reached up and twisted a finger through on of her curls. "I did it 'cause I wanted to."

"Why didn't you just...?" She exhaled softly. "I mean, it was...great...what you did, but I'd like to do more than that with you. I want...all of you. I want you inside me." She didn't blush this time. "Don't you want that, too?"

He inhaled. "I do, but...it's complicated."

"How? I'm on the pill. You have condoms. We both want to. How is it complicated?" She didn't mean to sound so crass, but she had to know why. "Is...there something you don't want to tell me?"

"I don't actually have any condoms," he admitted. "I haven't had any in about a year. I don't really need 'em."

"Why wouldn't you need them?" She frowned. "Wait, do you not use condoms? Wait, is that why you want to wait? Do you have something?"

"I'm clean," he assured her. "I just...haven't been in a relationship."

"In a while," she added.

"No, ever," he confessed.

"You've...? You've never been...in a relationship? How is that possible?"

"I grew up in a small town. People didn't like my family, and they kept their distance. When I moved down here, I didn't want anything but to achieve my goals."

She nearly shot up. "You've had sex before, though, right?"

He chuckled at how her jaw dropped. "Yeah, Carol, I've had sex before. I just...don't do relationships. I mean, I didn't. I only just started dating a couple years ago. I didn't care much for it, to be honest, not till I met you." He tucked hair behind her ear. "I don't want to screw this up."

"I don't either, but...I feel like you don't want to share yourself with me like that."

"You know that's not true."

"I know, but...it worries me." She met his eyes. "I've only really been with one guy, and it was so diffferent than us. I just feel like I'm doing something wrong, that I'm doing something that makes you not want me—"

"Carol, I do want you. You have no idea how much. I just..." He let out a frustrated breath. "I don't want to fight about this."

"I don't want to fight. I just want answers. What is so bad that you don't want to have sex?" As soon as those words left her lips, an answer came screeching into her brain. Oh, God. He moved to the city when he was young, and his parents didn't care. No good parent would just let their kid move across the country at fifteen unless they were doing something awful. He said it was complicated on their first date. Oh, God, Daryl.

"What's wrong?" He frowned at the tears in her eyes. "Carol?"

"Is that why you don't talk about your parents? Did they do something to you?" She felt numb. "Did someone...abuse you?"

Daryl went rigid underneath her. "What?"

"You moved when you were really young. Your parents didn't mind. Your brother also came with you, so...was it your mom or your dad?"

He pushed her off and away from him as carefully as he could. "I don't want to talk about it."

She whimpered soundlessly. So one of them did abuse him. "Daryl—"

He stood up. "No. It's in the past. I ain't goin' there."

"If they hurt you—"

"Would you want to talk about somebody that hurt you?" His eyes burned into hers. "I don't think so."

She swallowed. "I just want—"

"It ain't your business," he decided. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Not my business? It's your past, Daryl. It's a part of you no matter what, and I want to know all of you. I care about you so much, and I—"

"It's not a part of me," he cut her off. "It is what it is, and it's over. Keep your damn nose on your face."

She flitched at the anger in his face. He was standing away from her, breathing heavily, and he was being defensive. This was an extremely touchy subject. He was yelling at her, glaring at her. It wasn't in the past. It was so far from being in the past. "Daryl—"

"What? What can you possibly say to make any of it better? Your words don't mean shit to my scars." He scoffed. "You wouldn't even understand."

"I would understand. I _do_ understand!" She climbed off the couch. "My life isn't all peaches and roses!"

"It wasn't like my life, trust me on that."

"Then trust me enough to talk about it with me! I want to help you through this. It clearly still affects you."

"It doesn't."

"Then why are you yelling at me? Why are you so short of breath? You're mad. You're livid. You're in pain. You need to talk about it."

"Words don't mean shit."

That stung, and she blinked back tears. "So when I told you you have my heart, that meant shit, too?"

"Yeah." It came out before he could process her sentence. "Wait, Carol—"

"I think you should go now." She ducked her head.

"I didn't mean to say that. It was..." He heaved a sigh. "It was an accident. Slip of the tongue. I didn't mean it. I know how you feel, and I... I feel the same. I really do. I just don't wanna talk about my old man, okay? It's in the past. I can't deal with it right now."

"How about ever?"

"What?"

"If you can't deal with what he did to you, how are we ever going to move forward?" She lifted her head, and his heart broke. She was sobbing, hurt by his words, by his actions, and she was thoroughly upset. "What he did to you...was unspeakable, and he should be in prison, rotting for the rest of his life. And you say it's in the past, but it's not. It's right here between us right now, and it's hurting our relationship."

"How? We were fine, even before you figured it out."

"Fine? Daryl, you won't have sex with me because of what he did to you! It's not okay. It brings up those memories, doesn't it?"

It dawned on him then they were having two different conversations, and she wasn't crying because of what he did to her, what he said to her, but what she thought his father did to him. He wondered how she figured it out so out of the blue and so quickly. She hadn't. She'd assumed the wrong thing, and he didn't let her explain. He jumped on the defensive and hurled anger at her. He did exactly what Merle did when people brought up their old man. She was right; it wasn't in the past. It was between them right now, and he had hurt her. Him.

"Carol, he didn't...abuse me like that." He moved towards her. "It wasn't sexual."

"What?" She blinked at him. "It wasn't?"

"No. He...used to put his hands on me, but it wasn't with anythin' but rage." He exhaled. "And me not being ready to have sex has...little to do with his abuse."

"He did abuse you?" Her heart broke. "He beat you?"

He ran a hand through his hair and nodded. "Me and Merle both, but I don't want to talk about it. I just can't."

"Will you ever want to talk about it with me?" She wiped at her eye.

"I don't know. I've never wanted to talk about it. I've always kept it to myself. It ain't an "out of sight, out of mind" type of thing. I got scars. I see 'em every damn day." He swallowed. "I just can't go back to that place in my mind, okay? It's not you. It's me. I've tried to work passed it before, but it doesn't do any good. It just brings back all the things I lived through."

"You're a good person, Daryl. You deserve to be able to go through your life with this...issue resolved, not bottled up. What'll you do if you have kids?"

"I won't abuse them!"

"I know you won't. I just meant you might distance yourself from them for fear of abusing them, of being anything like your father. Daryl, these things don't just go away by ignoring them. Trust me on that."

"I know, but bringin' it to light never helped me any!"

"Maybe you didn't find the right person to talk to."

"There is no "right person"."

"What are your goals for life?" she suddenly inquired. "I know you want to be a carpenter, but what else?"

"What else is there?"

She scoffed. "Kids, a partner, a house, a life without debt—the list is pretty damn long." She studied him. "You don't want kids?"

"Not really. I mean, I never thought about it. I never had anybody who made me want to think about it."

"Not even me?"

"I haven't been with you long enough to consider that kind of future with you."

"I have." She gulped down tears. "Maybe it's a me thing. Maybe I move too fast, but I have. I've seen you with Bri, and of course I think about...a future with you, having children with you. How could I not?"

He didn't want to admit he had thought about it. He'd seen her with Bri and Amy, and she fit so well with both of them. He loved how they clicked. They were already friends, and Bri asked about Carol every time she came over. He didn't have the guts to admit it. It was foolish, but this was unknown territory. He didn't know what the hell to do here. He was scared. He'd never been so _honest_ before. He never had any reason to be.

"I think I might be in love with you," she confessed. "I don't know for sure, but simply thinking that I might be says a lot. I don't want any reply from you, but...if you haven't thought about a future with me...or even feel slightly the same way as I do...then maybe we ought to just end this here. I don't want to waste another three years. I don't want my heart broken again. I'm sorry, but I don't. I hate to put you on the spot like this, but I need to know if I'm wasting my time. If we're wasting each other's time."

He stepped back. "And if I can't give you an answer?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Can you not give me an answer?"

"I don't think I can."

"Then I think you should just leave." She brushed by him and headed for her room, hearing him calling to her as she walked by, but she didn't stop until she'd locked her door and collapsed onto the floor. She sobbed and pulled her legs to her chest.

––

"Hmm." Rosita shed her coat and boots by the door, stretching as she walked into her apartment. She had met her cousin for dinner, and she was stuffed. It felt so good to be out and about with family. She missed just hanging out with them. She needed to do that more often.

"Good meal?"

"Very good." She rubbed her stomach and walked over to the couch, kissing her girlfriend. "I see you've made use of the spare key."

"Just a little." Tara set the book she'd been reading down across her chest. "Carol and Daryl are getting it on, so I thought I'd crash with you."

"Lucky me." She sat beside her. "Did you kick Aaron's ass?"

"You bet I did." She didn't smile though.

"What?"

"I beat his ass, but Eric beat both of our asses."

"What?" She laughed. "He did? No way."

"Yes, way. All way. He's a killer shot. He's...precise and focused. He's better than Boss."

"Wow. I can't even imagine that."

"Yeah, Aaron set him up with a trainer when the bomber was after us, just in case he tried to take any of our loved ones out, and that trainer taught him well. I'm tempted to book a session with him."

"Ditto. Boss is an awesome shot."

"He's taken out a lot of kneecaps in his days," Tara mused.

"True. He doesn't shoot to kill like most cops."

"He isn't like most cops."

"True again." She brought her legs up and crossed them. "I can't believe he beat you. I gotta try and beat him now."

"Good luck."

"Thanks." She met her eyes. "And speaking of Aaron and Eric...they called me on the way home tonight."

"Oh?" Her brows rose.

"They met with the surrogate and discussed the details."

"Did they sign the paperwork, too?" It was meant to be a joke, but Tara was curious.

"No, but the lawyer is drawing up the paperwork as we speak. They'll inseminate her on Friday, the day before Christmas Eve." She smiled somewhat. "They're little gift with a loading time."

"I don't know what to say."

"I have some things to say to them before any ink dries," she confessed. "They told me who she was, and as much as I want them to have a baby, I don't think this is the way. It seems...rushed. I can't believe she even agreed. Her heart's in the right place, but...I don't think she knows how hard it's gonna be."

"Who's she, Ro?"

"Beth. They chose Beth."

"What?" Tara gasped. "As in Maggie's little sister? That Beth?"

"Yeah."

"How is Maggie okay with that? How is Beth okay with that? It's like her first born child, only not, but still. She can't handle that. She gets overly attached to puppies! This will break her heart. Doesn't she realize that?"

"Yes, but her heart is just so eager to help heal their hearts that she...see that. She's such a good kid, but she doesn't... She can't see how terrible this'll unfold in the end." She moistened her lips. "I know she's a grown woman and can make her own decisions, but this is insane. This isn't the type of choice she should have made without thinking it through for at least a few days."

"Did they just spring it on her?" Tara couldn't see them doing that to Beth.

"No, she asked. Apparently, Glenn and Aaron were talking about it, and she overheard. She wants to do it. She decided then and there to give them a baby, and she didn't even think on it. She couldn't have to answered so quickly."

"If she changes her mind...it's gonna kill them."

"If she can't give the baby up and they have to go to court...it'll kill all of us." Rosita shook her head. "I gotta talk to her."

"When?"

"I don't know. Tomorrow? She's in town—clearly—to be with Maggie and Glenn for the holidays. I'll stop by on my way to work."

"She has a few weeks to think on it. She might back off by then."

"I still want to speak with her." Tara nodded. "I don't know what I'll say, but I'll figure that out tomorrow. Right now...I just need some good news."

"I have good news." Tara grinned. "I get to spend Christmas with Lilly and Meghan."

"What?" Rosita beamed. "Seriously?"

"Seriously. Lilly's flying me down there in two weeks to be with her and Meghan for the entire week. It'll just be us girls, too. Phillip has some business over seas or some shit with his company, and Lilly really wants to see me. Meghan even made up the guest bedroom. She snapchatted me." Meghan spent an hour talking her through the snapchat process as Tara only used her phone to keep in touch with work, but now she had that. It was great to see Meghan again, and she couldn't wait to see her and hold her. And Lilly. God, Christmas couldn't come soon enough. "She's so beautiful, Rosita. She's so tall! Well, she's taller than I remember, but still."

"You're...spending the whole week with them? The whole week of Christmas?"

"Yeah."

"That's...incredible, Tara. I'm so happy for you."

"You don't seem very happy." Tara frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" She forced a smile. "You're being paranoid."

"You're faking it. I know when you fake it."

"Only in high school," Rosita joked, trying to change the subject. "And not with your skills."

"Did you want to do something?" Tara ignored that.

"No. I have an ass ton of family who want me over at their place." She shrugged. "I mean, I got you a gift, so I thought...you know, I'd be able to give it to you on Christmas Day, but hey, it's okay. You get to spend it with family. That's better than my silly little gift."

"You got me something?"

"You and our friends."

"I got you something, too. I thought we could do dinner before I go." She reached over and grasped her hand. "I'll take you to that little romantic Italian place and stop by that coffee shop you love to get dessert then come back here and exchange gifts. I have some classic Christmas movies we could watch, and I have the good hot coco. Also I was hoping you'd take me to the airport in the morning." She'd get to see one of her favorite people when she left and when she arrived. It'd be a great morning.

"It's not the same as spending actual Christmas together." Rosita looked bummed. "I am thrilled you get to spend time with Meghan and Lilly, but it sucks. I mean, why didn't they do this last year? If they really wanted to see you, they should have done it sooner."

"Rosita."

"I'm sorry, but it's true. Why didn't they just invite you over on Thanksgiving or something?"

"Phillip isn't fond of me, and I hate him. I wouldn't want to drag down their holiday."

"Have they invited you before?" Rosita narrowed her eyes. "And you just now said yes?"

"Phillip won't be there this time."

"Yes, but it's the first Christmas we'll be spending together!" Rosita snapped then paled. "With Lauren! And—and Daryl! Carol might have invited him! God, Tara, really."

Tara shook her head. "Wait, what?"

"Yeah, it's a big deal for all of us to spend Lauren's first Christmas with her. Why do you think we've been making plans?" Her heart was racing at the exposure she'd just threw the fuck out there. "And Carol and Daryl's first Christmas. It's a big moment—meeting this mystery guy. Aaron and I were hoping you'd try and convince her to bring him." That wasn't a lie unlike the rest of it.

"It's not my job to convince her, and I can spend the next one with Lauren. You know, when she's a little more able to understand what's going on. And we'll meet Daryl when Carol's ready to introduce us to him, not before. I won't peer-pressure her into doing anything. I was hoping you'd be happy for me, but clearly, it's all about you."

"It isn't all about me," she retorted.

"It is! You're just using our friends as an excuse! Do you think I can't see that? You're a shit lair!"

"I'm not lying!"

"About Daryl, probably not. But the rest? Bullshit. I know it sucks, but they're my family. I've spent, like, a million Christmases with you, but so few with Meghan and Lilly. I'm sorry, but I'm going. The flight is booked, my bag is already packed, and I'm going."

"Yes, but we were never together before." She didn't care how exposed she was right now. She didn't want to give Tara the wrong idea or have her be pissed at her for a misunderstanding. "We're together, and I wanted to spend this stupid romantic holiday with you. I made plans. I...I was really looking forward to it."

There it was. Tara softened and stroked her hand with her thumb. "Baby, I'd love to spend Christmas with you, but I need to see my sister and my niece. I'm sorry."

"I understand that. I just don't like that they get you for Christmas, and I'm stuck here alone."

"You're not alone. You have the team."

"But you won't be there. It'll just be me and three couples and a baby."

"Beth will be there."

"I hardly know Beth."

She sighed. "There's no real winning, I know, and I'm sorry, but...I have to go."

"I know." She tucked hair behind her ear and met her eyes. "I'll drive you to the airport."

Tara smiled. "I'd love that." She leaned over and kissed her, lifting her hand to cup her cheek. Soft hair brushed against the back of her hand as Rosita shifted, leaning towards her. It had been a while since they'd had sex. Tara wanted to give her space, because of the whole week suspension and all, but she had calmed down and was the same woman everyone knew and loved. She was certainly more forward than before, though, revealing to Tara the most well kept secret Rosita likely had, and it warmed her soul to have gotten that peek.

Rosita pushed Tara down underneath her on the couch, smiling against her lips as Tara's hand slipped underneath her shirt. She missed her touch. She talked to her and held her, but it wasn't as intimate as it was before. It was more sympathetic. A sort of let's-calm-the-crazy-detective touch. She hated it, but just being close to Tara made the hate vanish. And she was ecstatic to know that touch was nowhere near her right now. She needed to feel Tara. She would be leaving for an entire week, and they had a lot of making up to do. There would be plenty of playing catch up, too.

Tara brushed her fingertips along the hard muscle of Rosita's stomach, feeling her skin quiver at her touch, and her fingers were eager to feel more of her. It'd been so long since she'd felt her without it being weird. She didn't know how to handle Rosita during that time, so her touch reflected that in likely the worst way. She had missed this. She'd missed Rosita. She wasn't her that entire time, but now she was, and Tara loved it.

They moved to the bedroom after their last experience with the couch. Rosita and Tara both fumbled with each other's clothing. It'd been a few weeks since they'd even tried to be together, and they were clumsy and keen and full of actual giggles. They would stop to just laugh at how awkward they were being, but it was sweet laughter and cute awkwardness. Rosita would stumble back with laughter, and Tara would stroke her hair and pull her back to her, stealing her laughter with her lips, and they'd work their way towards the bed.

Tara pulled Rosita free of her sweater, leaving her in her mismatched underwear, and Tara caught her hips, rubbing circles into the flesh there. She captured her lips next, Rosita wrapped her arms around her neck and weaved a hand through her short hairs. She moaned into Tara's mouth as she parted her lips with her tongue and pulled her closer. Tara felt as though Rosita wanted to become one with her her grip was so tight, and Tara pulled away from her kiss.

"You're not gonna lose me." Tara bumped her forehead against Rosita's.

"I don't know that," Rosita imparted. "You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." She opened her eyes. "I do know that."

She kissed her, knocking them back onto the bed, and Rosita trailed kisses along Tara's neck down to her collarbone and to the dip her bra made of her breasts. She paused only to remove the annoying cloth and placed a kiss directly between Tara's breasts. Rosita tended to follow Tara's lead since she had only been with one other woman years ago, but Rosita wanted to lead this time. She wanted to make Tara feel every bit of everything Rosita felt for her, even what she couldn't admit, even what she didn't want to admit. It wanted to be known, and this is how she could get it out. This and many other things, but for now, she wanted her. Only her.

"Rosita..." A fervent breath escaped from Tara's lips, her back arching off the bed, and Rosita innocently looked up at her, as though she had no idea this was one of Tara's major turn-ons. It was one of seven weak spots Tara had, and Rosita knew all of them quite well. This was just her favorite, so she'd give it a lotta love. "Aah."

Rosita leaned over Tara, brushing hair out of her face, and she traced her fingertip over Tara's jawline and around her lips and glided her thumb across her forehead down to her cheekbone. She studied her so thoroughly that Tara was worried.

"What are you doing?" She was able to catch her breath while Rosita stared at her.

"I want to always remember what you look like."

"Rosita—"

She smirked. "I mean like this: an utter weak mess, mewling at me."

"Shut up."

She kissed her. "No more interruptions. I promise."

"I'd appreciate that." Tara laughed. "But it's okay."

"By the way," Rosita spoke, "you're beautiful to look at. It's a little hard to take my eyes off you."

"I know the feeling." She brought Rosita's face down to kiss her, pushing her over with her hips so that she was on top. She wanted to spend tonight with Rosita in every way they could together, because one thing was very clear to her. She was head over heels for this woman, and that wasn't going to change, but perhaps her words should.

 _I love you._ She thought those words as she kissed her girlfriend. _I love you._ She spelled those words out along her jawline and down her torso. _I love you._ She caressed those words into her cheeks and her hips. _I love you._ She poured each ounce of love and affection she felt for this woman into her every movement. She knew Rosita wasn't ready to hear those words, to say them either, but Tara would ensure she felt them. That's what mattered most in the end. People can say anything they want, but going through with it, showing it—that was everything. And to Tara, Rosita...had become everything. She didn't know when, but somewhere from that first shot that night at the club to this moment in time, everything slowly began to click. All of the struggles, all of the heartache, all of the mountains and tears, all of the rocks and blood stains...made sense just by looking into those inky eyes.

She found a peace and bliss in this woman that she never expected to find in, let alone in the woman who stood shoulder to shoulder in the heat of a shootout, who cheered her on in dart matches at Jones, who whopped her ass at pool, who made her laugh and held her when she cried and ultimately stood beside through everything. But of course...how could she have known this would be so close when she kept always ahead instead of beside her?

– – –

Carol dragged herself out of bed the following morning, having cried herself to sleep, and she felt like a mess. She likely looked like a mess, and she fucking smelled like Daryl. Every inch of her smelled like him, and it made her ache, because it had happened. The thing she'd feared the most had happened. She wasn't lovable. She wasn't the marrying type. She was just a quick fix. Whatever the hell that meant.

She snuffled and pushed herself up off the bed, dragging herself to her bedroom door and pulling it open. It smelled like coffee and pancakes and gravy and biscuits. It wasn't like Tara to cook a blowout meal, but maybe she would use it as an opener to pry into Carol's night. She'd only get tears. Ha ha, so funny.

She inhaled to collect herself and stepped out, heading to the kitchen and trying to think of an excuse to just shower and head to the office without being questioned. She opened her mouth the second she entered the kitchen and nearly slapped herself to see if she was dreaming.

Daryl stood in her kitchen in a sleeveless gray shirt and sweat pants that didn't belong in the pile of crap Shane never reclaimed, cooking breakfast. He was pulling biscuits out of the oven at the exact moment she came into the kitchen, and he had the table made up with food and coffee. He'd even busted out the jams they bought, but never used because they never eat at home anymore.

"What the actual fuck?" she whispered to herself.

He turned at the whispering and found Carol staring at him. "You're awake."

"What are you doing here? Why are you cooking?" she demanded. "What the fuck, Daryl? Do you not remember what happened last night?"

"Yeah, I remember."

"We broke up, and you should have left."

"I did leave." He set the tray of biscuits down. "I went home. I went to the store. I picked up your mail."

"That's illegal."

"I didn't open it."

"Why are you still here?" she snapped. "You don't even see a future with me! Why share a present?"

"Because I want to be with you."

Her head was about to explode. "What the actual fuck, Daryl?"

"When I said I don't see a future with you, I meant that I don't see a future. I don't plan ahead, Carol. Every plan I have ever made in my future life since I was seven years old went to shit. I don't make plans beyond the day. I only do weekly plans if I have doctor appointments," he imparted. "I don't know what to do in a relationship. I don't know how to make things right. I don't know how to prove we've moved forward. I don't know what you want from me or this relationship, but I do know that I want to be with you. I'm scared to think about any future with you, because every future I thought I'd have, someone took. Or—or I fucked it up. Or I'm just scared! I'll admit that. I'm not afraid to admit that. But I am afraid of how much I hurt you last night. That wasn't my intention."

"Then what was? To push me away?"

"No. I just wanted to change the subject."

"Well, you did a great job at that," she spat. "And this little speech sucks. You really hurt me last night. You brought every fear I have to the surface, do you know that? Do you have any idea how hard that was for me to handle? Alone?"

"I'm sorry."

"You made me feel like I wasn't enough, Daryl."

"I didn't mean to. I just... I'm so sorry, Carol. You can't know how much. I didn't intend to hurt you. I would never want to hurt you. I just don't know how to handle talking about what happened to me, or what might happen to me in the future. Good or not. You grow up like I did, and you expect the worst. How could I tell you I'm half tempted to just say fuck it to my goals and work for Merle for the rest of my life 'cause I do pretty well and pay my bills? How could I tell you that I'm a piece of shit? How could I tell you there are million better guys out there for you? They're not complicated. They're not fucked up. They're...safe."

"Who said I want safe?"

"Isn't that what you want, though?"

"I wanted you," she answered. "But now I'm not sure if we even are worth trying."

"I don't blame you."

"You just became an asshole, and it's not who you are. You don't have to tell me about what your dad did to you, but don't take it out on me. I know it's a sensitive subject, but God, you...you blew up on me."

He lowered his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"You don't know what you want, Daryl, but I do. I want a husband. I want kids. I want to further my career. I want to move out of this shitty little apartment and have a spacious house. I want to be loved. I want... I want everything I never had growing up, and I want someone who wants those same things and things of his own beside me. I already went through the false hope with Shane. I don't want to go through that again."

"Would you take him back?" Daryl eyed her curiously. "Shane?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't trust Shane, he broke my heart, and I've moved on."

"Do you trust me?"

She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "Why do you want to know?"

"I just do. Do you trust me?"

"A little. Less after last night, but yes, I do trust you. Somewhat."

He smiled a little. "Okay then. Would you have breakfast with me?"

"What? No. We're talking. I don't want to eat and talk."

"You didn't eat much at dinner, so I know you're hungry. I made your favorite things, and I even squeezed some orange juice out." He pointed to the pitcher on the counter.

"I'm not hungry."

"You're always hungry in the morning. You raid my cabinets."

"Don't act like we're on good terms. We're on thin ice."

"I know, but I want you to eat. Okay? Please?"

"Fine. I'll eat." She sat down. "What is there to eat anyway?"

"Pancakes, biscuits and gravy, bacon." He set a plate down in front of her. "I got some fruit too. Your toaster kind of freaks me out. It sparks, so I threw it away."

"You threw my toaster away?"

"It almost caught on fire."

"It wasn't yours to trash."

"Are you really going to argue with me over a broken and dangerous toaster?"

"Yes, I am."

He leaned against the counter. "Now you're just picking fights."

"Because I'm pissed off!" she snapped. "Do you get that? I cried myself to sleep, because I feel like the most unlovable fucking human in the entire world? My own mother didn't want me. She left with me an asshole stepfather. My fiance of three years said fuck it and went undercover after dumping me, despite the fact that I could have been pregnant. My best friend is never home with me for more than twenty minutes. And the guy I thought actually liked me doesn't want a future with me. So yeah, I'm pissed off and miserable! I don't want fucking orange juice!" She exhaled sharply and turned away from him, disbelieving that she'd just divulged that much information. She wanted to kick herself then throw herself off the roof of this building. Good God.

"I do want a future with you."

"And now he's lying to try and make me feel better. Let's add that to the list." She stood up and walked out of the kitchen.

"I mean it."

"You just feel sorry for me." She shook her head, marching over to the front door and yanking it open. "Just go. Go home."

"No."

"Get out. I don't want you here. I will have you escorted out by PPD if you don't leave!" She was emotional and screaming and trying to get him out before she cried again. "Aaron and Glenn and Boss will toss your ass out into the snow faster than you can say no again."

"I didn't want to have sex with you, because I'm terrible in bed!" he shouted over her.

Carol blinked, not expecting to hear that or even knowing how to reply to that. "What?"

One of her neighbor's walked by at that moment, Daryl and Carol blushed, and he looked them over before continuing to walk. Carol shut the door and locked it, smacking her face against the cold metal, and Daryl saw her shoulders shaking. His heart dropped, and he could have prayed for her not to cry anymore.

"Carol." She made little gasping noises. "Please, don't cry."

Though as he drew closer, he saw she wasn't crying. She was...laughing. Hysterically laughing. Her entire body shook with laughter as she turned around, falling back against the door, a red flush of color spreading across her face. Under that mess of chestnut curls, her face was glowing with laughter and embarrassment, but mostly laughter. She was so beautiful. He was relieved to see her eyes filled with moisture due to tears, not sorrow.

"Oh, God." She wiped at her eyes. "Fuck my life." She smacked her hands together and dropped to the floor, laughing and gripping her sides. "What's even happening?" She slowly stopped laughing and hummed before falling silent entirely, holding her sides. She didn't move, and the color left her face.

He lowered himself down onto his knees in front of her, her eyes moved to his, and he kept eye contact. "I don't want to leave here with a terminated relationship. I don't want to leave you hurting. That's why I stayed. You mean so much to me, Carol, and I am trying. I've been tryin' this whole time. I don't know what I'm doin' here, and I can't expect you to pull all the weight. I want to do my part. I want to give you...the best parts of me—"

"I don't want the best parts of you," she gently intervened. "I want you, like I said before. I want you—the good, the bad, the ugly. The oral skills, too. Those were nice." She watched him turn blood red.

"You don't want all of me." It was more self-depreciating than anything.

"I do. I want all of you for myself, and I want you to want all of me for yourself. I don't need a ring. I'll take this for starters." She peered at him. "I don't need the whole story. I get that it's complicated. If you ever want to tell me, I'll be there to listen. But for right now, I just need all of you."

"I don't know what that means."

She scooted closer. "Just be yourself with me. Be real with me. Be with me. We'll figure this out together. We both have scars. We both have been hurt by people who were meant to love us. We both...have a lot to work through, but let's do that together."

"I don't want to hurt you again. Not like last night. I can't do that to you again."

"I don't think you will." She rested her hands in her lap. "I trust that you won't."

"Can we just start over?"

"No. I like where we're at. It's honest. I need that right now." She straightened her spine. "You're terrible in bed?"

He blushed. "...yeah..."

"I don't believe that."

"You should."

She giggled at his expression. "Daryl, remember those oral skills I mentioned?"

"That's cause I know what you like. And it's different than sex."

"I think you've been with terrible women," she stated.

"No, it's just me."

"Let me be the judge of that."

He shifted. "What, like now?"

"No, not now. I'm starving right now." She climbed to her feet. "I want those pancakes."

He smiled. "I knew it."

"Oh, wait." She stopped halfway to the kitchen and returned to where he was on the floor, bending over to be at eye level with him. He gulped at how intense she was looking at him, but she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and sat down on his lap. "Good morning, jerk."

"Jerk?"

"I don't want to see you the rest of the day after breakfast, okay? I have some thinking to do, and you probably have to work."

"Thinking? About what?"

"If this relationship has a future. I meant what I said before in the kitchen, but...you said a lot, too. You did a lot. That gives you some points, but I can't do this if you're going to hurt me like this again. And I don't want you walking on eggshells our entire relationship."

He wrapped his arms around her lower back. "Okay, that's fair, but I should be here with you. We should talk through this together."

She smiled. "You won't run away?"

"No." He searched her eyes. "If we have any future together, we're only gonna have it by figurin' this out together. And I want to figure it out with you."

She ran her fingers through the hairs on the base of his neck. "I'd like that." She kissed him briefly. "And who knows? We might just have to test out how bad you are. And if you're as bad as you say you are, I'll just have to show you a few things."

"If you say so."

"Do you even like sex?" she abruptly questioned. "I mean, you say you're terrible and avoid it at every turn. Are you...asexual? I think that's what it's called."

"I haven't had good experiences with it. Mostly women Merle threw my way. Nobody...like you. You I actually want...a lot. I just...don't want to disappoint. Or be humiliated."

"I would never humiliate you."

"I'd probably humiliate myself," he murmured.

"Daryl, don't." She set a hand on his cheek to get his attention. "Tell your demons your girlfriend is going to kick their asses, all right? Don't demoralize yourself."

"There's so much you don't know about me."

"And there's so much you don't know about me. We'll learn. And we'll have sex." She smiled at him. "Lots and lots of sex."

He chuckled. "I doubt after the—" he stopped himself, and she smiled happily at that. "Your pancakes are getting cold."

"Let's eat." She hugged him tightly. "Don't give up on us or yourself so easily, please."

He rested his head on his shoulder. "I'm tryin'."

"I know. Me, too." She kissed his forehead. "C'mon."

They headed back to the kitchen and dug into the meal Daryl had prepared in silence. They both had a lot to think about and a lot to talk about, but now was for coffee and for contemplation. The rest would come after digesting. Hurtful words were thrown around but words could be forgiven. There were no unforgivable actions. Daryl did...something no one man ever done for her: he stayed. And that meant everything to her. He could never know how much.

– – –

"Do you want food?" Rosita was resting her head on Tara's belly, tracing lazy circles into the skin there, and she could hear her stomach growling, so she knew she was hungry. Plus, it was like two in the afternoon, and they hadn't left bed. They'd been up till about two and they slept in till one, and now they were just...recovering from Rosita's burst of energy this morning.

"I don't want to get up for food." She picked up her phone. "Think we can get Aaron to bring us food? He already knows about us."

"No." She shook her head. "I don't want anybody over here. Just you."

"Wow, just hog all my Saturday."

"I will." She smirked at her.

"We do need to eat something." She stretched, moaning at how amazing it felt, and she slipped out of bed, leaving a grumpy Rosita behind. She tugged her shirt on and headed down the hall. There was no chance in hell of her finding her panties, and it was just them. Plus her shirt was a night shirt, so it was stretched out and almost to her knees, so if she cooked, any splatter would be instant regret.

"Tara!" Rosita called from the bedroom.

"Yeah?" She stopped in the hall.

"I have a problem." She came flying out of the bedroom, pale.

"What's wrong?" Tara frowned and caught her hand. "Baby, what is it?"

"It's family dinner tonight. I completely forgot." Her eyes were huge and panicked.

"So?"

"So? So? Tara, family dinner! It's December!" She threw her other arm up, tossing her phone by accident, but she was too freaked out to care. "They're coming over! Over here! For dinner!"

"So, it's only, like, two."

"Not with my family." She explained, "We start at one with making dinner. We talk about everything, my mom rearranging my entire apartment, and my dad sits on the couch watching Spanish dramas. My brother is coming over, too, with his baby."

"Okay, I'll just get dressed and leave then."

She sighed. "No, I'm not tell you this so you'll leave." She closed her eyes. "I want you to stay."

Her eyes widened now, and her jaw nearly hit the floor. "Y—you want me to stay? And meet your family?"

"They want to know who I'm dating, and it's you, and I'm tired of lying about being single. I want them to know you. They won't care about us both being women. Mom just wants me to settle down, so if she thinks we're serious, she'll..." She paused. "Actually, you're the first person I've brought home in years, so you'll be hounded regardless, so let's just wash up. They'll be over at three. Caesar's picking them up, and I told him to stall, so we have an hour to look like we didn't just spend all night in bed."

"Okay, do you wanna shower first?"

"Can't we just shower together?"

"We won't get clean, and the whole point is to look like we didn't screw each other into two in the morning, remember?"

"But it'll be faster, and you can scrub my back. Massage my back. I think I have a knot in it."

"You spent an hour on it, so I don't doubt it." Tara smirked, suggestively waggling her brows.

Rosita giggled. "You shower first. I'm going to clean up my bedroom."

"Okay, did you remember to pick up toothpaste at the store?"

"Yeah, it's in the second drawer in the bathroom." She nodded. "I got you a new toothbrush, too. It's green."

"You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to, and yours had bent brussels. That's not good for your teeth."

"You need to shower, not talk to your wife!" came a soft but annoyed voice from behind Rosita.

"What the hell?" Rosita turned and saw her phone on the floor. She never ended the call with Caesar. "You eavesdropping puta!" She picked up the phone and went off on him in Spanish.

Tara dove for the shower then. She didn't want to know what was being said and honestly, she didn't want to meet Rosita's parents half naked in an old PPD shirt. That would be the worst first impression ever. Especially since this meeting was as Rosita's girlfriend, because she was tired of hiding their relationship. _Slow and steady wins the race, right? Perhaps we're closer to winning than I thought._

After both women had showered, the bedroom was made up, and Rosita had dug out the pillow her dad loved from the hall closet, they pretty much just paced in the living room. Rosita was wondering if Caesar had killed her parents, and Tara was about to pace holes into the wood. She could only think about the last time she met someone's parents, and it was fracking weird. She didn't want to relive that with Rosita. This relationship meant more than that one, and besides that friendship that bloomed following the end of that relationship meant more to her than anything, so it worked out. Funny that this was the exact opposite of that situation.

"You can calm down. We're here." Caesar walked in through the unlocked door with bags up his arms.

"Finally." She moved to help him with the bags. "I was worried you drove off a bridge or something."

"Almost, but no." His eyes moved to Tara. "Hey."

"Hi, Caesar." She remembered him from the few times he dragged Rosita off to a family event after work. That was back in their rookie days, so it'd been a while. "How are you?"

"Better now." A blonde woman appeared behind him with two year old a on her hip, all bundled up for the cold.

"What she said." He carried bags into the kitchen with Rosita.

"Um, hi." Tara didn't know who this woman was. "I'm Tara."

"Andrea." She walked over to shake her hand. "He's terrible at introductions."

"I just carried in fifty pounds worth of bags," Caesar called from the kitchen. "I'm lucky to not have broken anything!"

She laughed and pulled the beanie off the head of the boy who was his father's mini-me. "This is Demitri. We call him Demi, though."

Demi waved at the mention of his name.

"Hi, sweetie." Tara waved back at him. "He's precious."

"Just like his daddy." Caesar returned to the living room. "Wait, where's little bit?"

"With Marie and Sal." She nodded her head out the door. "She's pretty much taking candy canes off of wreaths. They're also not stopping her, so...we'll have to redo the "don't touch what isn't yours" lesson."

"I'm on it." He jogged out the door.

"Little bit's here?" Rosita shot out of the kitchen. "Why didn't you tell me she was coming? I would have locked up my personal stuff. Jesus." She ran to her bedroom to lock up her shit. She had a spare handgun in here and a vibrator and some toys and a knife! This was not a safe environment for a three year old! Aah!

Tara was confused. "I thought you only had the boy."

"Caesar and I have Demi," she explained. "Liv is mine from a previous...relationship."

She nodded. "Is Liv a nickname, too?"

"Olivia," she nodded.

On that note in came Caesar with Liv on his shoulder, walking like a T-rex, snarling dramatically, and behind him were Rosita's parents, who shut the door as if to hide this embarrassing scene. It was sweet, because Liv was giggling, but still. Awkward to any passer-bys.

"And Liv." Ceasar set her down to introduce her to Tara. "This is Tara, a detective. She works just like Rosita to keep the city safe. She's awesome pretty much. Be nice to her, and she might take you for a ride in her cop car." He winked at Tara, who smirked.

"Okay." Liv smiled at Tara with all of her little baby teeth, and Tara couldn't help but smile back. She was beautiful. She had light blonde hair down to her shoulders, big little cheeks and the greenest eyes. She was a little Andrea without all the curls. She was precious, too. "Nice to meet you."

"It's nice to meet you, too." She crouched down and shook the little girl's hand. Tara pretended it hurt. "Oof, strong grip. I'm going down."

Liv giggled and tried to prevent Tara from going down, but she was three, so that did nothing.

"Is that my Livvy I hear?" Rosita came flying down the hall. "It is!"

Liv's face lit up. "Rosita!" She jumped up, reaching for her, and Rosita scooped her up. "I missed you!"

"Oh, I missed you, too." She kissed her forehead. "Ooh, you angel."

Tara smiled from where she lie abandoned on the floor, finding this side of Rosita...refreshing. She'd never seen her like this, though they didn't have any kids nearby to do this with, but still. It made her fall even more for this woman.

"Here." Caesar helped Tara to her feet. "Want to help me unload the bags? Mom and Rosita and I will be in there cooking soon, and Demi's due for a nap, so that'll take Andrea away. Help me out?"

"Sure."

"Thanks."

Rosita set Liv down on the floor, glancing at Tara and Caesar as they vanished into the kitchen, and she smiled at Demi, planting a kiss to the top of his head. She then hugged Andrea loosely to not smashher nephew, and she moved to her parents, hugging them both tightly. She was anxious about tonight, but good anxious.

Andrea put Demi down for a nap in Rosita's guest bedroom, Sal put on his shows, translating it to Liv, who climbed onto his lap to see what he was doing, and Rosita went into the kitchen with her mom. Tara was in the middle of pulling out some weird little root when they entered, and she nearly dropped it at the sight of Rosita's mom. She set it on the counter and cleared her throat.

"Oh, you. How good it is to see you." Marie greeted her with a wide smile. "You look so good."

Tara had never met this woman before, so what was happening. "Yeah?"

"Mom, this is Tara," Rosita corrected. "Not Carol."

Marie didn't let that bother her. "She still looks good." She moved around her daughter to help Caesar with groceries.

Tara slipped by them. "She's met Carol?"

"Yeah, Carol came with me to a few family events." She crossed her arms. "You won't really get to be introduced until after dinner. I'm sorry. She has a one-track mind."

"No, it's all right. I'll just...find Andrea. I think I can get to know her."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." She set a hand on her arm before leaving the crowded kitchen, and she found Rosita's dad and Liv watching TV. She spotted Andrea sitting on the floor to the hall, peeking into the guest bedroom, and she went and sat on the opposite wall. "No baby monitor?"

"No, and those shows give me a headache. I can block it out from here."

"Same." Tara pulled her legs in. "So, you have a three year old with an ex and a two year old with Caesar?"

She inhaled. "I know what you're thinking."

"Nothing negative, I assure you. I'm just making conversation, and I don't know any other place to start. I'm sorry if that was rude. I'm...a little on edge."

"It's all right. I don't mind explaining it. Better you know now from me." She set her hands in her lap. "I was with my ex for two years when I got pregnant in the middle of year two. He wanted me to abort. He wasn't ready for another kid. I wanted my baby, you know? So...I tried to stick around and convince him how great a baby would be, but he didn't want her. We broke up when I was seven months pregnant."

"That's rough."

"It is. I was in a different state. I had no family to contact. I had no place to live." She shook her head. "I had to call my sister. She helped me get a place down here. I'm a great saver, so I had enough to buy a place, and she helped me find a townhouse for me and Liv."

"That's lucky."

"Well, Am's just awesome like that. She's been such a help to me. She's been through the whole baby thing, and it was my first, so I was just all over the place. She was my rock the first few months Liv was born."

Tara smiled at that. That's how Lilly was to her. A rock. Before she moved, anyway. And maybe again now.

She pulled her legs in and rubbed her thigh. "I met Caesar when Liv was about four months old. He asked me out for coffee. I said no. I was a single mom, restarting my career." She then elaborated that part, "Phillip didn't want me to have a job when we were together. He wanted me to stay at home and be there for him and his daughter from his first marriage. I fell for it like an idiot, but I did work from home, hence the money I had saved."

 _Maybe all Phillips were assholes_ , Tara thought to herself. "Yeah."

"Anyway, I kept running into Caesar. Turns out...he works in my office, and we built a friendship on that. It...turned into something more a few months in, and we slept together. No first date, no nothing. We just...fell into bed together." She couldn't help but chuckle at the memories of it. "And I got pregnant. I cried the entire day I found out, and he came over to see me with flowers and pizza. He was so upset to see me just bawling my eyes out, and he asked what was wrong. He thought I was upset about what happened between us, because I avoided him the first week. He finally worked up the courage to see me, and he thought I was just so upset I'd cried the entire day over him."

"I can see that."

"Right?" She cleared her throat. "I explained what was really going on, and he just dropped onto one knee and asked me to marry him."

"Whoa."

"I laughed in his face." She winced a little in memory. "He was so...taken aback by that, but he caught my hips and held me in front of him and asked me again to marry him. He was serious. I started crying again, and Liv started to cry in the next room at hearing me cry. And he just went into her room, picked her up and held her then came back and comforted me. He told me he was in love with me. That he'd been in love with me since the first time he asked me out for coffee. I thought he was just...trying to make me feel better, trying to offer a quick fix to the situation, but as my pregnancy progressed, he was right beside me. He held my hair through morning sickness, he made me tea and fetched any food I was craving no matter what time it was. He...was attentive to all of my needs and my body changes. He was a rock, and...I fell in love with him during that time, so we got married.

"Nine months pregnant, wearing this god-awful dress green dressed and hobbling around city hall at six in the morning." She laughed, and Tara laughed imagining it. "But we got married. He legally adopted Liv, and we moved into a bigger house. We have a flow as parents and in our relationship. I'm really lucky to have met him, and Amy just loves him. Bri does too. He's another father figure she needs in her life."

"That's awesome."

"It is." She lost her smile. "And it still is, but her asshole dad wants in her life all of a sudden."

"What?"

She nodded, rolling her eyes. "He's coming down for Christmas, because he wants to meet her. I said no, hell no, fuck you, get out, but my dear husband thinks we should give him a chance. "People change", he says. I know Phillip. He hasn't changed. He wants something. I just don't know what, but if he thinks he can use my daughter against me, he's wrong. She isn't his. Her blood is mine, her smile, her eyes, her laughter is mine. Her kindness, her personality, her fits are her dad's. Their Caesar's. Nothing of her is his, and the fact that he thinks...any of it could be infuriates me."

"I get that. That's how my neice's dad was before he finally bailed. He was a real creep. I'm glad he's gone."

"I wish Phillip would have stayed gone." She sighed. "To her, Caesar is her dad. His name is on her birth certificate. It's Olivia Jane Martinez, not Olivia Jane Blake. He already has Penny and Meghan. He doesn't need my baby, too."

"Wait, wait." Tara locked eyes with her. "Blake? Phillip Blake? That's who her sperm donor is?"

She clicked her tongue. "Yes."

"He's married to my sister, Lilly. He—he told her he was going away on business this Christmas, not seeing...Liv."

"Of course he did. He wouldn't want the world to know about the child he had out of wedlock." She put her anger aside. "So, you're...Meghan's aunt? I met Meghan when I went back to talk with Phillip once. She was really sweet. So was her mom. They deserve better than him."

"I think the same."

She smiled a little. "It's weird how we're already connected through family. Well, your family. I'd consider Meg to be a sister to Liv."

"You would?"

"She's a good kid. Smart, articulate, thoughtful. Your sister raised her well."

"Thank you."

"I gotta say...nothing is more fierce than a single mom," she remarked. "Lilly has such a strong air about her, and I can tell she's done right by Meghan. I'm proud of her, and if this seems weird, my sister is a single mom, too."

"Lilly is strong, and Meghan is everything to her. She always comes first."

"That's how Amy is with her daughter. Nothing would break their relationship, and Amy would do anything to keep Bri clothed and safe and healthy. She even has Daryl to help her do that. He's been an incredible light in Bri's life. He has his issues, but he puts them aside to be the father figure Bri needs." She then joked, "Philly knows how to make men. Actual, good men, and women, too."

Tara's head was about to spin off. Andrea was connected to Lilly through Phillip, and Andrea was connected to Daryl through Amy and Bri. Meaning Andrea was also connected to Carol through Daryl. Holy shit. What the hell? Were they all tied together by red strings of fate or what? Shit.

"Rosita is a good woman, and I know she cares about you. This is the first time she's brought us over to meet her partner. This is huge. The last time was awful, and we couldn't stand him, but here I am pouring my life story out to you." She laughed. "I'm not even this open with my husband."

"It's just my trustworthy face," she mused.

"That must be it." She heard fussing from the guest bedroom. "Demi had a nightmare." She climbed to her feet. "This is what happens when his dad decides on the Halloween costumes."

She laughed as Andrea shook her head and tended to her son.

"Boop."

Tara jolted a little finger poked her cheek, Liv giggled at the reaction, and Tara blew out a sigh. "That hurts me, Liv. Real deep."

"I'm thirsty," was her apology.

"Well, that just can't happen, now can it? We must right this terrible wrong." She hopped up and held out her hand. "My lady."

Liv giggled at her and took her hand with both of hers. "Juice! Juice!"

"Yes, a sea of juice!"

Her eyes widened. "I need a bigger curly straw." It was said in all seriousness, and Tara had to bite her tongue not to bust out laughing.

"Probably." Tara guided her to the kitchen to get her some juice, finding Rosita, Marie and Caesar in the middle of cooking and listening to music and dancing. They were having a blast, and it was no wonder it took them forever to cook. Tara would have to bust out some snacks for the little one here.

"Juice?" Caesar opened the fridge at the sight of his daughter. "What are feeling like, little bit? Apple? Grape?"

"Prune?" Rosita teased, and Liv stuck her tongue out.

"Mango," Liv chimed. "Man-gooo."

"All right, gimme some of that man-go." He pulled out her favorite cup and handed it to her. "Mango neat for my sweet."

Liv grinned and accepted the cup, heading back out to the living room to watch TV with Grandpa.

"I swear I'd die for that kid," Caesar announced. "If her asshole old man does anything to hurt her, I'll have to kill him, and you'll have to work my case, sis."

"I can't work your case. You're family." She crossed her arms. "Different last names but same blood. Tara here would have to work it. Be nice to her, and she might even throw out some key evidence."

"Do you like man-go too?"

"I'm good, but thanks." She leaned against the wall. "What do you mean by different last names?"

"I took our mother's last name." Rosita hugged her mom briefly. "Caesar took Dad's."

"Why?"

"Well, it just fit me more. Rosita Espinosa, Caesar Martinez, and if we ever run into each other on business, people won't know we're related. Though they assume because we're brown people." She shrugged.

"And we look alike."

"I'm prettier."

"Yeah, because I'm hot."

"In what world?"

He put his hand on her face and pushed her aside. "In all worlds."

Rosita smacked his arm. "You're insane. And your hand smells like onions. Puta."

"Hey," Marie reprimanded, "don't use that language."

"Sorry." She leaned against the counter and met Tara's eyes and mouthed, _But it's true_.

Tara chuckled.

"Why don't you stop running your mouth and finish your part of the meal?" Caesar gestured to her neglected pot.

"I'm bringing it to a boil." She rolled her eyes and turned back to actually finish her food. "Don't you have kids to bother?"

"He does now." Andrea walked in with Demi. "He won't go down for me. I think he wants his daddy."

"Here." He took his son carefully from her and rocked him in his arms on the way back to the bedroom.

"Did anybody bring any wine?" Andrea hopefully asked with a sweet smile.

"Cut me open, and I am made of wine." Rosita pointed to the display of wine at the end of her counter. "Help yourself."

"Thank you. I just want one glass."

"We won't judge you for drinking more," Marie commented. "You did marry my son after all."

"Oooh!" Rosita snickered.

"And you have food to finish," Marie cut her daughter's laughter off.

"All right, I'm on it." She turned once more to her pot.

Marie shook her head at her daughter and turned to Tara. "C'mere, I'll show you have to make her favorite dessert. I think you're gonna need it."

Rosita smiled at that and looked over as Tara washed her hands and joined her mom in preparing dessert. This was the best idea she'd had in a long time. All of her family here with her girlfriend. This was bliss, and nothing would change that, no matter how her parents reacted.

– – –

Carol and Daryl were on the couch, two cups of coffee on either end of the coffee table, a thick blanket shared between them. They were facing each other, the only thing touching were their legs as they sat with their backs against their respective arm of the couch. They had been talking for hours, and things were different now. It was like a veil had been lifted, and they were so many options surrounding them. Some were good, one were light, and some were heavy and dark, but it was okay. Those could wait.

"My mom left me when I was a teenager," Carol confided. "She just up and left, and I have no idea where she is now. Or even if she's still alive. I used to think...I'd use my contacts in PPD to find her, to demand to know what the hell made her leave me, but I'm afraid of the answer. I'm afraid I was the reason she left. It was me, not him, you know?"

"Yeah, I get that."

"It's hard to move passed it. I want to believe I'm worth hanging on to, but when your own mother just ditched you...it's impossible to convince yourself you're worth anything. If the woman who brought you into this world doesn't want you...how could anybody else?"

"I know that feelin'."

"I'm gonna be such a better mom than that. I'll make sure my kids are happy and safe and loved."

"I don't know that I'll have kids, but I'll be better than my old man. Better than my brother, too."

"I know you will be." She pulled the blanket to the side and pushed up so that she could lie down over top him, and he wrapped the blanket around her. "We both will be."

"Maybe together," he whispered, knowing she could hear him.

She smiled and gazed at him. "Thinking about the future, are you, Mr. Dixon?"

"Just a bit." He played with her hair. "If I don't...I might lose you, and I really...don't wanna lose you."

"Why's that?"

"'Cause I think I might love you, too," he susurrated, "and I don't want to risk losin' you 'cause...I've never felt this way before. I'm gonna make a lot of mistakes—you already know that—but I'm gonna try my best. I want this to work, and I want you."

She felt her eyes burn, and she kissed him. It was meant to be a brief kiss, a sweet one, but the moment their lips met, a passion swept through them. He grazed his hands up her back, bringing her closer to him, the scent of her flooding his senses, and he cupped her cheek.

She slid up his body to be over him instead of at an uncomfortable angle, opening her mouth to his and feeling him shudder at the access. She had one arm around his shoulder, her fingers combing through soft hairs at the base of his neck, and she used the other to guide his hand every so gently down to the small of her back and underneath her shirt. His hands were rough against her skin, large and cool, but she liked how they felt.

He held her hips and maneuvered their bodies so she was underneath him on the couch. She laughed softly at how many rolls they had to go through to get comfy, but he swallowed her laughter when he hungrily claimed her mouth, his hands on her hips to adjust her underneath him, and she rested a hand behind his neck, gasping when his hips rocked against hers. She knew what he was trying to do, what he was possibly unintentionally doing, and she decided to not be helpful. They were two different heights, not vastly separated but enough that their bodies didn't automatically align. He was trying to fix that, and well, the friction felt...more than nice.

He groaned when she lifted her hips at the same moment he shifted her, and she felt him hard against her inner thigh. She set a hand on his chest, kissing the corner of his lips teasingly, and he tried to catch her lips, but she wasn't letting him. She flicked her eyes into his, finding unadulterated desire there, and she smirked, titling her head back so that he could kiss her.

His hands were still by her hips, so she slid her hand down to his hand guided it under her shirt. She had left her bra off when she changed her clothes hours ago, so that's what Daryl's hand was met with. He gasped softly into her mouth at the tender flesh now in his palm, and she moaned when he began to knead her breast. He wasn't holding back this time, and it only made her want him more.

She trailed a hand down his chest, and she steadily began to pop open the buttons along the way, her knuckles gliding over his breasts and hard upper abdomen. She broke their kiss to run her lips over his chest, her hands undoing the button and fly of his jeans, and she hooked a leg around his lower back.

He reached down for the hem of her shirt and pulled her free of it, tossing it away, and she pushed his shirt off with his aid. When their mouths met again, Daryl grasped her hips and leaned back, lifting her up and off the couch with him. He carried her to her bedroom and set her down on the bed, knocking the pillows by her head to the floor. He began to work on tugging down her leggings, and she kicked them aside.

"God, you're beautiful." He kissed her, smoothing her hair down.

She met his eyes. "So are you."

He seized her mouth once more, feeling her hands on the waistband of his jeans, and he rolled them over so that he was on his back. He kicked them off the rest of the way and found her eyes in the dark room, his hands moving to interlace with hers, and she enveloped him. His eyes shut and he felt like he couldn't breathe at the feel of her around him. Christ, she hadn't even moved yet and he as overwhelmed. Damn it.

She watched him, his breathing escalating, his eyes closed tight, and she had a feeling it wasn't all pleasure. She knew he had anxiety about this, and she didn't want to ruin this moment. He didn't know how this felt for her, how amazing it was just to be with him like this, and it didn't matter if he came first. She wanted him to enjoy this and feel all of her, and her pleasure would come later. He's focused on her pleasure every time they were together, so it was her turn now to focus on his.

––

Carol scrutinized him. They were under the covers now, facing each other, and he hadn't said anything. Carol was worried, because he just sort of fell silent afterward. She didn't know what to say here or even what to think, but she knew what he was feeling and thinking, and it dampened her mood.

She wiggled closer to him, he looked at her, and she huffed. "You're beating yourself up, aren't you?"

"Told you I was terrible." He propped his head on his palm, running his fingers through the hair he could reach. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not." She reached over and touched his chest, seeing part of a scar there. "I liked it."

"I doubt that."

"I did. Do you know how amazing it felt to be with you? How it felt when you came? Knowing that I did that?" She poked him. "You were calling my name, and that...was incredible. Don't doubt that."

"What about you?"

"We'll just have to practice more." She playfully batted her eyelashes. "Until then...I did mention those oral skills, right?"

He chuckled and kissed her. "Thank you."

"For what exactly?"

"Givin' me a chance."

"Then thank you," she replied, "for letting me and for...showing me what a good man is."

He ducked his head, blushing, and he mumbled something before moving under the covers. She was confused until she felt him between her thighs, and she felt the knot inside of her belly that formed from their previous tryst tighten...

– – –

Rosita and her mom washed dishes while Tara and Caesar and Andrea did an ice cream run since apparently Liv didn't want any baked goods for dessert, and Tara couldn't eat coconut. They almost killed Tara and Liv threw a fit, so Andrea was going to take them to a little ice cream shop around the block. Rosita was going to use this chance to tell them about her,

"Hey, Ma, there's something I need to talk to you about." She dried her hands and faced her mother. "It's about me, and...I'm worried this might change our relationship. We've always been close, and...I don't know how you'll take this."

Marie braced herself. "You can tell me anything."

"I...I'm bisexual. I've always known. I just...kept it hidden. I mean, I don't even date, so it didn't seem to matter, but...now I am dating. I'm dating, and I really care about her." She gripped the washcloth tightly in her arm. "Tara and I are together."

Marie inhaled and nodded. "You know the story of how you were born, right?"

"Yeah, you and Dad say I'm special, and I'd say Caesar was too. Special Ed." Very immature of ten year old her.

"You are special." She set her hand over Rosita's. "The real reason you and Caesar are ten years apart is because I miscarried. I have several miscarriages, and...then I had you. I prayed for you every night. Your father prayed for you. Caesar prayed for you. And then you came. It took me ten years to get you, my love, did you really think I'd let anything take you away from me?"

Tears filled her eyes, and she embraced her mom. "I love you."

"I love you." She rubbed her back. "And Tara is great. We already love her."

Marie comforted her daughter, encouraging her to tell her father, and Rosita tried to keep from sobbing the entire way to the living room. She knew her mom had her back, but her dad was a different matter. He was stern and set in his ways. She was his little girl, and he had this image of her that wasn't entirely her. It was just what he thought of her, and now she would shatter it. She didn't know how he'd take it.

"Hey, Dad." She rubbed her eye and snuffled.

He instantly turned the TV off and took her hand. "What happened? What's wrong, mi amor?"

"I need to talk to you, and I don't think you're going to like it." She blinked back tears.

"C'mere." He pulled his fully grown daughter down onto his lap like she was five years old again, and he patted her knees. "Let me tell you a story, mi amor."

She sniffed. "Okay."

"We have noisy neighbors. Always have. They want to know everything about both of you kids. They love you both. They're proud of you. So am I." He kept eye contact. "So, every morin' when I go to get my paper, I have one of them ask me "How are the kids?". You know what I say?"

"A cop and a man-child?"

He chuckle. "No, and you know that."

"What do you say?"

"Happy. They're happy. That's what I say." He gripped her knee. "You don't look too happy now. Do I gotta change what I say?"

"No, I am happy. I'm...really happy." She smiled. "I have a girlfriend that cares about me, and I care about her. And it makes sense. I'm not scared."

"Then that's good enough for me. I don't need details. It's your life. I got happy kids, that makes me happy." He wiped her cheeks. "Smile, mi amor. You'll upset Demi if you don't smile."

She laughed. "Okay, I'm smiling. I'm smiling."

"Ah, my girl." He kissed her cheek. "You make me so proud. Don't ever think you could change that with something as trivial as who you bed."

"Dad!" She blushed.

"Eh." He waved her embarrassment away. "She's a beautiful girl. She has a good heart. She makes you happy. Nothing to blush about."

"Thanks, Dad." She rested her head on his shoulder.

"Te quiero, mi amor."

"Te quiero."

Tara, Caesar, Liv and Andrea returned with ice cream moments later, the leftovers were put away, Rosita, Sal and Marie were watching Spanish dramas with Demi, and it was about time for them to get home. Goodbyes were said. Sal and Marie told Tara to take care of their girl, Caesar said if she wanted to babysit at any time, give him a call. Andrea told her it meant he trusted her with both his kids and his kid sister. It warmed her heart, and she closed the door once they were out of sight.

"That went well, right?" Tara eyed her girlfriend.

"Very well." Rosita grinned. "I'm glad they came over."

"Me too. I really like Andrea, and your niece is pretty cool for a three year old. A little bossy pants, though."

"Just like her mom."

"And speaking of parents, yours are amazing. Your mom is so thoughtful and nice. Your dad is cool as a cucumber. He translated one of those shows for me and Liv. It makes me miss my parents."

"Oh, right. I forgot...your parents passed."

"It was a while ago. I'm okay." She shrugged her shoulder. "It was great to get that feel of family again. They were welcoming, and I appreciated that, especially for just crashing your dinner like that."

Rosita smiled. "You can crash our dinners anytime you want."

"I just might take you up on that." She crossed over to her and kissed her. "But for now, I have to get home."

"What? Why?"

"I need to take another shower, change my clothes, do laundry, and we work in the morning. It's a session to plan out that Christmas party, remember?" She nudged her. "We'll go home together, though, eat some leftovers. Maybe cuddle."

"I'd love to cuddle." She caught her hands. "Get home safe, okay?"

"As you wish." She kissed her softly. "Good night."

"Good night." She walked her to the front door of the building and watched her pull out. She ambled back to her apartment with a smile on her face and buzzing under her skin at how well this night had gone. She wanted to dive into the remaining chocolate chip ice cream and jump into bed. That was the plan. The perfect end to the best night.

However she came to a dead stop at the sight of flowers on her doorstep, all her bubbly energy evaporated, and her heartbeat increased. She approached the vase of tulips and saw a letter under it. She picked it up and opened it with shaky hands. It was a short letter, and it resulted in her picking up the vase of flowering and hurling them against the wall with a scream. She slammed the door to her apartment and left the letter behind, covering her ears and shaking her head, her eyes burning. No, no, no. "No!"

 _My dear Rosea,_

 _did you really think this was over? That we were over? We have so many more truths to discuss, my sweet. Like your boss. Tyreese Cole Williams. Hmm, what a man of "honor". He has badges and awards all over his office and all of them are lies. Sweet, shiny, brass lies. He is no man of honor. He is no man._

 _He is a lair and a cheat. He is a murder. Hardhearted and calculating. He was the very definition of a dirty cop in his rookie days. He lead to the deaths of countless innocents. He has more blood on his hands then he could ever hope to wash off. He only got his position because he fucked over so many people, got so many people killed, that they had nobody else to give it to. Your boss, your role model, the father of PPD homicide division is a lair, a scoundrel and a cold-blooded killer._

 _But don't worry, I won't let him corrupt you, my dear._


	26. And How They Shatter

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot._**

––

"Not yet," Carol gasped, digging her nails into the sensitive skin of Daryl's back, eyes squeezed shut, her lungs failing her as desire and pleasure coursed through her like blood. "Not yet." She was willing him at this point to not come.

Daryl gripped the headboard tighter, thrusting into her harder and faster, not sure if he could hold on for much longer, but he would try. He was lost in this moment, in the feel of her tightening around him, driving him closer and closer to the edge. He wasn't sure how much more he could take. "Fuck." He bowed his head, gripping her thigh with his other hand and lifting it over his hip, and she moaned, pulling him closer. Her lips parted to call his name when she climaxed, he lost his grip on the headboard as he was sent free falling over the edge at the same time, and his head landed on her shoulder, biting the salty skin there.

They didn't move for several minutes, evening out their breathing and absorbing every ounce of pleasure from their shared orgasm, and they also had no feeling in their limbs. This wasn't the first time they'd had sex that night, but it was the last, because neither had the energy for another round, no matter how tempting it was.

The condom was tossed into the trashcan by her bed, Daryl rolled them over so that she was over his chest, and Carol moaned softly at the movement, her body very tender after all the physical activity today.

"Sorry." He pushed hair out of her face.

"I'm not." She smiled up at him and kissed the part of his chin she could reach. "We definitely worked off dinner."

"And dessert."

She giggled and buried her face in his chest. "Yeah, that too."

He dropped his hand to her back and lazily traced the line of her spine. "I didn't think you were serious," he admitted, "about working on my crappy sex skills."

"Very serious." She raised her hand and placed it on his chest to rest her chin on it. "And you're a quick study."

"Only 'cause I like pleasing you." He loved the sound of her moan, the way she called his name so breathlessly and so desperate for more, and he loved the feel of her hands grasping him desperately as if that could offer release. Not to mention how it felt to be inside of her. God, if was this how drugs felt to Merle, he didn't blame him for being hooked.

"Do you?"

"Yeah." He peeked at her. "Finally got you there."

She bit her bottom lip and grinned at him. "Yeah, you did."

"Maybe next time won't take as long," he muttered.

"As long as it's not tonight," she remarked. "I don't have the energy, and I'm going to be sore tomorrow."

"Good." He smirked.

"Oh, is it? Is it good? You want me sore?"

"Yeah." The thought of making her sore...aroused him, and he knew she wasn't up for anything more, so he tried not to be turned on. It wasn't working.

Carol felt him by her thigh and stroked his chest with her fingertips. "Well, mission accomplished. I'll probably have a hard time walking tomorrow," she purred. "And I'll remember how that happened and who did that. Just thinking about all we did tonight kind of...makes me hot."

He swallowed with extreme difficulty, his mouth completely dry.

"I guess that's why bathrooms have locks. I might...have to alleviate some of that tension." She smiled at his full length heavy by her thigh, and she knew he was picturing it as his eyes squeezed shut. "I think you might need some of that tension...alleviated." She pushed herself up onto her knees, and moved hair out of her face.

He opened his eyes at her body being gone from his, and he groaned as she took him in her mouth. "Fuck!" His breathing escalated, and his mind went utterly blank, the exhaustion he felt moments ago replaced by the overwhelming sensation of her tongue tracing his now pulsing cock. "Oh, God, Carol!"

It was a good thing Tara wasn't home tonight.

– – –

"Look who finally decided to show." Tara had her hands on her hips, standing at the entrance of the mall with Rosita and Maggie.

"I'm sorry." Carol hurried over when a car allowed her to pass. "We said at seven. It's only eight."

"Yeah, but had we known you'd be late, we could have slept in a bit more." Maggie yawned. "I have an infant. I need all the rest I can get."

"I am sorry." She was smiling from ear to ear.

"Lair." Rosita smirked. "You got fucked ten ways from Sunday last night."

She only smiled more. "No!"

"It must have been good." Maggie teased. "You can't even pretend to lie."

"We are not here to talk about what I did or didn't do last night." Carol couldn't stop smiling, and she knew her cheeks were going to hurt tonight, but she was too elated to care. "Let's knock out some Christmas shopping."

"So you can so climb on Daryl's dick again?"

"Uh-huh." She didn't even blush. "Does anybody have a problem with that?"

"Not as long as you're safe," Tara replied. "I don't need another niece or nephew just yet."

"Duh. I'm not ready for that either."

"Cool. Then let's knock out Christmas shopping."

The group entered the mall, Rosita and Maggie were discussing what to get the boys, and Tara and Carol were walking behind them. They hadn't had much time around each other lately, what with Tara and Rosita talking every night at her place and with Daryl and Carol going at it like rabbits. Also work. It didn't slow with the holiday season so near, but it was nice to have this time off to shop. No one had shot an in-law for marriage-long argument, and nobody had tossed a hooker into a vat of acid just because. Sick fucks. She was glad they were wasting away in prison for the rest of their lives, them and whoever came next.

"So, you and Daryl are doing well?" Tara broke the silence.

"Very well." She tucked her hands in her coat pockets. "I'm meeting with his niece tomorrow to give her the gifts we're buying today, and we're going to have dinner with her, and it's going to be great. It's the first time we'll have Bri without Amy, and that's huge. Amy trusts me with her daughter, and Daryl trusts me with his niece. I'm so happy."

"I can tell. The hanger you slept with hasn't left your mouth."

She chuckled. "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I am thrilled you have this great guy in your life." She nudged her. "I'm happy you're happy."

"Same to you." She didn't look at Rosita, but she didn't have to.

"Hmm?" Tara played clueless.

"I just want everyone to be as happy as me." She looped her arm through Tara's. "And we're being very safe."

"I don't need details."

"And I'm not giving you any." She lost a bit of her smile, and Tara noticed.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just had a weird thought." She shrugged. "Let's go to Bath and Body. I want to get some bath bombs and salts."

"If you and Daryl get freaky in our bath," Tara warned.

"Again, you mean?" Carol mused, being entirely serious.

"I hate you."

"I'll clean it when I get home. I promise."

"With bleach. Lots of bleach."

"Yes, ma'am, and I'll keep the bathroom sex at his place."

"Could you keep all the sex at his place? I feel like I'm in college again." She couldn't even go home without fearing she'd hear or see something she did not want to hear or see. She had most of her stuff at Rosita's to give them privacy, and it was getting to be too much. She wanted to be in her own sometimes...didn't she?

"Okay. We'll stay at his place tonight, but help me find a good bath salt. Something relaxing, but also kind of alluring. There's something new I want to try tonight."

"That's too much information!"

"It's not. We're going to be at his place, so I'll cook, and we'll bathe, and—"

"Have I ever told you my plans to seduce someone?"

"Yes, actually, you have."

"Well, I'm sorry, and don't repay me the favor."

Carol smiled at her. "If you could be only half of how happy I am right now, you'd be sky high."

"I am happy," Tara informed her. "I'm really...very happy." She shared Carol's grin.

"I'm glad. I worry about you."

"Don't worry about me. I don't have a chance at getting pregnant like you." She patted her arm. "And I don't have to get neice approval."

"Bri loves me, Tara. She told me, and Daryl doesn't need her approval."

"Well, have you met his brother? Like, actually met Merle as Daryl's girlfriend?"

She pursed her lips. "No, but I'm sure Daryl's just trying to work up to that. After all, with that lie we told Merle, it's bound to get awkward fast."

"If you say so."

She lowered her eyes and frowned. "Why would he be hiding me from his brother?"

"I don't know. You're hiding Daryl from us."

"I'm not hiding anybody from anybody."

"Then if you like him so much, why haven't we met him? If you trust him and know it won't end like you and Shane, why haven't you called us to Jones? Or out for a meal?"

"Because Daryl and I have a lot to work through, Tara. We're finally into a physical part of our relationship, and it's opening so many doors. I'm just trying to figure out where they lead. You guys will meet him. Soon. I promise. I just need to...figure out the time and place."

"All right." She tugged her towards Bath and Body. "Let's get you some horny bath salts."

"Oh, God, don't ever say that again!"

Rosita and Maggie watched them enter a store, Rosita shook her head, and Maggie crossed her arms. They waited outside, not a fan of the many scents of that place, and Maggie turned to Rosita. Rosita glanced at her then met her eyes at the serious look she found there.

"How long have you two been sleeping together?" Maggie asked.

"What?" Rosita's blood ran cold.

"You and Tara. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out, and you two came together. Not to mention, she's wearing your shirt, and you're wearing her bra."

"How do you even know that?"

"I went bra shopping with Tara when I was pregnant with Lauren, and I picked it out for her." She smirked. "And you stained the hem of that shirt with a marker when we were making signs for a garage sale. You buried it in the back of your closet, and you never let anybody wear it. Tara is more than just anybody to you."

"Your memory is terrifying."

"And you're avoiding answering the question."

"I don't know exactly how long, but...yes. We are sleeping together, and we're together." She folded her arms to mirror Maggie's stance. "Do you disapprove?"

"No." She smiled. "You two seem happy, and I'm glad to see it. You both deserve to be happy, and if it's together then hell yes. It's a win-win, and we don't have to break in two more people into our group."

"I'm glad to keep your social circle small."

She giggled. "You know what I mean. Everyone's...meeting someone and finding happiness. It does my heart good."

"Well, don't count your chickens just yet. Things don't always work out the way we think."

"I think they might work out the way I think."

Rosita studied Maggie then turned away from her and found Tara and Carol in the store. They were smelling something that clearly didn't sit well with either, and they busted out laughing. Rosita's heart swelled at the sight of Tara laughing, and she discovered she'd been smiling when it dropped slightly. She lowered her head and wondered what would come next. An actual relationship? Or more cruel flower messages?

––

"Okay, stop, stop." Carol giggled. "Amy's gonna bring Bri over any minute now."

They were on his couch, his shirt completely unbuttoned just like hers, her skirt rumpled by their make out session, and Daryl's pants loosely hanging on his hips. They were just going to wrap up the gifts they got for Bri and wait for her, but somehow the bags had been left on the counter top, and they had ended up on the couch.

"She'll bring Bri by at four. It's only three thirty." Daryl reached between their thighs for the zipper of his jeans, Carol seemed to be thinking something over, and he adjusted them until he was in the position he wanted. "We got time."

"We're supposed to be wrapping her gifts." Carol tried to ignore his hands on her hips, tried to ignore the way he was looking at her, and she even tried to ignore him slipping into her, but it all failed. Fuck wrapping gifts. It didn't seem so important. They could just toss it into a gift bag.

He thrust his hips upward, she whimpered, and he held her hips still. "We got time."

She wanted to move. She wanted to take the lead and send them both falling into a beautiful oblivion, but he wouldn't let her, and it only made her insane. She had never been on top and had no control before, and it was killing her. She dropped her head onto his chest and whined as he slowly—teasingly—bobbed in and out of her, and she didn't know he could be so cruel.

"Please, Daryl." If they were going to do this, they needed to do this faster. She couldn't handle slow. It was cruel. Pleasure coursed through her body, tingling along her spine, aching in her fingertips, but she couldn't do anything with it. He was moving in and out of her at a speed one used when leisurely taking a walk in the fresh winter air. She couldn't take it. "Please, faster."

He had never seen her like this before. She was squirming on top of him, desperate for friction, for his pace to increase. She was biting along his chest as though that would make him move, and she was quaking against him. It was...almost unbearable, because he wanted her. God, he wanted her so much, but Merle had suggested this. He wanted to try it, but it might be too difficult for both of them.

Her eyes fluttered shut. "If that little girl comes here," her breathing hitched at his thrust, "and we're still...aah...not finish, I swear to all the gods—Christ—in the heavens, I will finish this my—aah—self in your bathroom."

"Would you?"

Her eyes opened. "Yes." It was said through clenched teeth.

"Guess I oughta fuck you harder then," he said.

"Please," she begged, "much harder."

He pulled her down and caught her lips, seeing what Merle meant when he spoke to him, and while he did enjoy this side of her, he enjoyed pleasing her more. This little move wouldn't be used again.

After the little teasing round and the round rough enough to dent the door to his closet, they worked on Bri's gifts. Carol had changed into one of his shirts and a pair of yoga pants she had left here, and Daryl had changed his entire outfit. After the second round, he had no choice.

"I have a question." Carol taped down the last corner of the body wash set she'd gotten for Bri and lifted her eyes to his.

"What is it?" He was trying to package a stuffed pony in a way that didn't reveal exactly what it was.

"Why haven't you introduced me to Merle? I mean, officially?"

He bit his lip. "Do you wanna meet him?"

"He's your family. Of course I want to meet your family."

"Merle ain't exactly...classy."

"So? He's your brother, and I'd love to meet him."

"All right." He shrugged a shoulder. "You can meet him on Christmas, if you don't have any other pans, of course. He tends to drop by for dinner, so we can cook or order somethin'."

She smiled. "I'd love to cook for him."

He narrowed his eyes. "You'd "love" to cook for him?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "You'd be eating it, too. And I don't even like Merle as a person yet."

"I was jokin', but that's good to know."

A knock on the door caught their attention, Daryl answered it while Carol hid the gifts, and in flew Brianna. Amy stood by the door with him, watching Bri weed out Carol and tackle her with a hug, and Amy smiled, relaxing and telling Daryl she'd be back by six.

"We have dinner with my boyfriend, so I'm sorry it's such a short visit."

"It's okay. We haven't work out the details tonight. We...got kinda busy, er with the gifts and stuff."

"I'll bet you did." She smirked.

"What does that mean?"

"You still have sex hair, Daryl." She chuckled when he frantically tried to fix it. "It's good to know you're finally open enough to be with someone in this way. It's...awesome. You're happy, and that makes Bri so thrilled, and she adores Carol, obviously."

He glanced at as Bri showed Carol all the stuff she'd done in school today, and he chuckled. "Yeah." He turned back to her. "Don't let Bri meet your boyfriend."

"Why not? He's a good guy. He's great, even."

Daryl didn't like the feeling in his gut when he met the guy, and he didn't have a good feeling about this guy meeting Bri. He didn't approve. He didn't want this asshat near his niece. It wasn't his choice, but he did have some say, as godfather, as the only real father in Bri's life. He just hoped Amy listened.

"Just wait a bit longer, please?" He searched her eyes. "See how you feel about this guy before you let Bri meet him. That's all I ask."

"I know how I feel about him. I love him. He's great." It was more forced than she meant for it to be.

"He can be as great as he wants. I know you don't love him." He sighed. "You love Merle."

She tensed. "Excuse me?" It was a hiss. "You don't get to tell me who I do or don't love, Daryl Dixon, and you're brother means nothing— _nothing!_ —to me! He won't mean anything to Bri either. Don't make me regret this little date with Carol."

"That's not fair. You know Carol loves Bri. She's been planning this for weeks now."

She huffed. "Have her ready by five-forty. I won't be late." She cut a look at Carol then turned on her heel and dashed away.

He heaved a sigh and closed the door. It had to be said. He didn't trust this guy at all. He just wanted Amy to know that, and he wanted Amy to make the right decision tonight and keep her daughter away from him. He might have to ask Carol to do him a favor, just so he could be sure and tell Amy why he had this feeling. He wished that he was wrong. He wanted Amy to meet someone great and be happy, but this wasn't the guy.

And he didn't want Merle to be the guy. Merle slept around with everything that would have him, and he wasn't ready in any way to be a father to Bri. He and Amy had a connection, and now that connection was their daughter, but Merle wasn't ready. He wasn't a grown up. He was almost forty, but he was no adult. He had a long way to go before he was there, and Amy deserved better than who Merle was right now. Bri needed and deserved a hell of a lot more and better than who Merle was at this moment time time.

But he would take his asshole brother over this asshole Amy was dating. She certainly had a type, Daryl would give her that. Amy was a fixer, and both Merle and this jerk needed fixing, only...this guy liked being broken in the worst way.

– – –

Rosita and Tara were wrapping their Christmas gifts for their family, having already wrapped and hidden the gifts they had gotten for each other. _A Christmas Story_ played in the background as they taped and cut and drank some spiked eggnog. It was a nice humming Christmas atmosphere, and it reminded Tara of Christmas when her parents were alive. They'd all get together and wrap Meghan's gifts and joke and laugh, and it was great. She'd never forget those memories.

"So, we'll have dinner next week," Rosita brought up their plan, "then we'll exchange gifts here, and I'll drive you to the airport."

"And I will call you on Christmas eve to see how the second party went."

"And you'll call me on Christmas day to let me know how everything is going with your family." Rosita smiled at her. "And if Meghan doesn't like my gift, be honest with me, okay?"

"I'm sure she'll love it. She's big on makeup, and makeup...costs out the ass, so yeah, she'll love it."

"I hope so." She finished up with Carol's gift and moved on to Glenn's. "I'm meeting Beth next week."

Tara's head snapped up. "You are?"

"Yeah. I wanted to talk to her about the gravity of this surrogate situation, and I want to know her motives."

"She's a kind, giving person. She doesn't want anything."

"Everybody wants something, no matter how altruistic they are. I'm just curious as to why she decided to do this. She doesn't even know Aaron and Eric like we do, so I have to know." She shrugged a shoulder. "Don't worry. I won't make any life altering decisions without you."

Tara smiled. "And why not?"

"Because, if I have to listen to you complain about how I made this choice myself and yet dragged you into it due to birth classes and late night cravings, I'll never hear the end of it." She played it off as a joke, perhaps too well, because Tara's smile had fallen. "And...we're together, so we need to talk about this type of thing."

"Well, if you do decide to do it for them, I'm okay with it." She set Carol's gift on the table. "Really." She drank from her wine glass. "Eww. It's room temp."

"I'll still drink it." Rosita held her hand out.

"God, you booze hound." Tara wiped an eggnog 'stache off her lip.

"Hey, that's naughty booze hound to you." She winked, and Tara busted out laughing.

"You're such a dork."

Rosita laughed. "I am what you made me."

"True." She leaned towards her, reaching out with a loose fist and grasping her chin between her index and thumb, and Rosita's heart skipped a beat as those chocolate orbs found hers. "Happy Christmas, Ro."

"Happy Christmas, Tara." She smiled lovingly at her and accepted her tender kiss.

Tara brushed her thumb over her bottom lip. "I think these gifts can wait till we order take out."

"Me, too, but...whatever will we do until dinner?" Rosita jested.

"I have a few ideas about that." Tara seductively smirked. "And it involves busting my handcuff cherry."

"Happy holidays to me then." Rosita knocked Glenn's gift back into the bag that was filled with stuffed animals for Lauren and tackled her girlfriend, devouring her lips.

– – –

Carol filled their plates with grilled cheese, potato crowns and green beans. She glanced up as Daryl lifted Brianna up off the ground and held her like she was five years old and showed her the pretty lights they were decorating the neighboring building. She smiled at the sight of it and reached into the fridge to pull out milk and a pitcher of iced tea. She poured the milk to Bri's cup and iced tea into hers and Daryl's, and put them back on their shelf.

"Hey, dinner's up." Carol sat down on the island.

Daryl set Bri down. "Go wash up."

She nodded and ran to the bathroom to clean up.

"Did I make everything right?" Carol ran her eyes over the meal. "I know you said she wasn't picky on the crust, and she likes green beans. I also went with crowns instead of fries, because she likes them best."

"It looks good." He caught her hips. "You did good. She'll eat all of it. She's not that picky."

"All kids are picky."

He kissed her temple. "She'll eat it."

She smiled. "Okay."

Brianna walked over to the island and jumped on to a chair, looking at the meal in front of her. "No ketchup?"

"It's on the counter." Carol was about to stand to get it when Daryl slid it over to her. "Thank you."

"Thanks, Da." Bri smothered her potato crowns in it and dipped her grilled cheese it in, chowing down.

"See? Not picky." Daryl sat beside her and drank some of his tea.

"Where's this going?" Brianna licked ketchup off her lip, eyeing Carol intensely.

"What do you mean?" Carol lowered a fork full of green beans.

"You and Da. Where is it going?" She wiped butter onto her jeans and straightened her spine. "I don't want you to hurt him."

"Bri," Daryl warned softly.

"It's okay." Carol set her hand over his. "I'm not going to hurt him, Brianna. I care about him. More than you can know." She smiled at him.

She nodded. "If you do hurt him, I'll hurt you."

"Brianna!" Daryl scolded her.

"I mean it." Bri didn't back down. "You haven't been with anybody my entire life, and then she shows up. I don't want her to go away, because she makes you smile all the time. I don't want her to make you sad and cry and eat a million tubs of ice cream like when people break up with Mom."

"Threatening her is no way to make her stay," Daryl informed her. "And it's between us."

She lowered her eyes then tried a different approach. "You care about him? More than I can know?" Carol nodded. "Then always prove it. Prove it until you're old and white-haired and don't know what day it is. Prove it until your last breathe."

Daryl wanted to smack his face into his plate.

"I'll prove it," Carol vowed, "as long as it's true. How about that?"

She pursed her lips in thought and popped in a potato crown. "Okay, I'll take it."

Daryl shook his head. "No more questions like that, or no dessert."

She stuck her tongue out.

God, she was a child version of Merle, and they had never even met. Christ, her teenage years would be murder. "Blahh to you, too." He stuck a tongue covered in mashed green beans out at her.

"Gross." She giggled at him.

"So mature." Carol was smiling behind her drink of iced tea.

They ate their dinner without anymore showing of ABC—already been chewed—food, Daryl whipped up some malt milkshakes, and they all crashed on the couch for some gory Christmas film Daryl had found on Netflix. Brianna stretched out with her head on Daryl's lap, a pillow there for comfort, her legs dangling off the arm, and Carol snuggled up on the other side of him, his arm around her waist.

It wasn't long before Brianna passed out, Carol was ready to head home, too, and Daryl carried Bri to the guest bedroom. He tucked her in and made sure her worn to hell and back stuffed creature was beside her. He kissed her forehead and closed her door on his way back, finding Carol in the middle of cleaning up dinner dishes.

"Here." He took the semi-dry rag and dried the plate she was working on. "She's out cold."

"I don't doubt it. We went to the park. We built snow people and had a snow ball war with four nice ten year olds, and we came back here and played some more." She scrubbed at the dried ketchup on the plate. "I didn't know having a kid could be so exhausting. And she's not even a toddler, which I've been told is like a sugar rush in kid form."

"Yeah, kids are tough, but it'll be different when it's your kids."

"My kids..." She washed the soap off the plate. "I guess I'll find out. Wait and find out, because I don't think I'm ready for that commitment just yet."

"I think you'll be a good mom." He peered at her.

She smiled. "You'll be a good dad. You kinda already are. I was just threatened by your niece like she was your daughter, and I'm the evil stepmom."

"She's protective."

"I don't think she likes me."

"She does, but she just loves me more. And she's a Dixon. We protect the people we love."

She was still washing soap off the plate and missed the blatant affection shimmering in those crystal orbs that only saw her, and he smiled gently to himself, setting the dry plate back in the cabinet. He helped her dry the rest, and once they were done, she rinsed out the sink, ridding it of the ketchup that clung to the sides.

He swept her curls aside and placed a kiss behind her ear, feeling her shudder at the contact. He wrapped his arms around her. "Leave it."

"I'm almost done."

He placed a kiss to the base of her neck. "It's pretty late, you know."

"I know. I should head out soon." She heaved a sigh.

"Stay," he urged.

"Here? With Bri in the next room?"

"She's across the apartment," he corrected, "and I didn't say we'd have to do anything."

"Daryl, we haven't not done anything since...the first month we met." She turned her head to gaze at him. "And I don't think it's appropriate."

"She already knows we're together."

"Yes, but Amy hasn't even come to get her. She hasn't texted or called us in hours. I'm a little worried about that."

"She probably got busy with her stupid little assfriend."

"He's a boyfriend." She smirked at him. "And you know as well as I do that Bri comes first with her. She would have called."

"Let's try the landline. I muted the ringer." He released her and dug out the wireless phone from underneath the hidden drawer on the island. It was where he hid his booze when Merle was in a bad place. "There's a few missed calls." He listened to the messages and found one from Amy.

" _I got caught up in a work emergency, so I won't be able to go out tonight. Just keep Bri for me, and I'll be there bright and early to get her. Good night._ "

"See? She's all right." Still pissed at him, but all right. "Just stay the night."

"So pushy. I don't like pushy." She was teasing.

"You dated Shane."

"Ooh-oh!" She scoffed at him, mouth open. "Really? Did you just go there?"

"I did just go there." He pulled himself up. "What are you going to do about it?"

Playful? She liked when he was playful. "I could be cruel and let you suffer a cold bed."

"But what would that prove exactly? I'm a pushy guy, like you said. Maybe I won't let you leave."

She giggled. "Okay, now you sound like someone I hate. Go back to what am I going to do about it."

"Well, what are you gonna do about it?"

"Hmm." She bit her bottom lip and smiled to the left of her mouth. "Do you still have that lube?"

He eyed her. "What are you planning?"

"Come and find out." She grasped his hand and dragged him back to his bedroom. "But hush. We can't wake Bri."

"Oh, please." He gripped her hips. "You know you're the loud one."

She sealed his mouth with hers to avoid any further lies.

– – –

Glenn looked over the layout of the house he and Maggie were tempted to purchase. They had been secretly house hunting for about two weeks now, and this place felt like home at last. It had a spacious living room, a wide dinning room with carved vines and fruit on the doorway, a kitchen that made him want to bust out a large breakfast and five course dinner that instant.

It came already furnished in the living room and with a beautiful mahogany dining table fit for their entire family and his team. The master suite was...like a haven. The closet would fit all of their clothes for the next twenty years, and there was enough space in there for any spare furnishings from their current living rooms to reside.

"Well?" Maggie walked over to Glenn in the room that would be Lauren's. "What do you think?"

"I think," Glenn answered, "that we're home."

"Me, too." Maggie hugged him. "It's gonna be great."

"It will be."

Although they had to take a loan from their bank to buy this place, it would still be great. It was the first place they had felt at home in the moment they walked through the front door. It would be where they grew old and had Lauren's siblings. It would be a house full of memories to echo into eternity.

They spoke with their realtor, signed some paperwork, and she would finish the rest of it with them next week after the holidays. She knew they had a work party to attend, and she had her own Christmas plans, so it worked out.

They picked up Lauren and Beth from the apartment, heading into PPD, and they found it had been dressed up in the Christmas spirit. Carol, Sasha—Boss's little sister—and Boss had spent the morning decking it out, and they had even tossed a tree in the corner. There were gifts underneath it. All small gifts and likely just there for decoration, but who could say?

"No boyfriend," Maggie commented to her husband, spotting Carol all dressed up and cute by Tara's side. "Bet you ten bucks she didn't invite him."

"Bet you fifteen she did, but he got caught up at work."

"Twenty bucks you're both wrong, and he just didn't feel up to meeting us," Rosita tossed in from behind them.

Glenn smirked. "You're on."

"No one can just outright ask her, though," Maggie threw in. "She has to tell us. Deal?"

"Yes, ma'am." Rosita smirked and headed over to the table filled with goodies and drinks. Nothing with booze at Boss's command, as it was a work party, so they bought some for the real Christmas party. Rosita wouldn't be there, but she would get all the details from Tara. Tara, who she had to take to the airport tomorrow. Who she wouldn't be able to spend Christmas with. It really sucked, because she so wanted to spend it with her, but she wouldn't be selfish. Tara had waited so long for this chance—time with her family away from Phillip. She couldn't and wouldn't take that away from him. And...maybe...there would be another Christmas.

"Really into that punch, huh?" Sasha stood beside her, reaching around her for a bottle of water.

"Just thinking about the headache I'm gonna get from Christmas with my family." She pulled out a thin-lipped grimace. "I have a lot of people who want to see me, and I just don't want to deal with the relationship questions and why I'm still a cop. They basically think this job is me wearing a target in a prison."

Sasha laughed. "Hell, it is some days." She cracked open the bottle of water and drank from it. "I worry about Ty all the time. Every three am phone call, every visit from an officer..." She sighed deeply. "My son...relies on Ty, and I think that keeps him coming home every night."

"What do you mean, relies on Ty?"

"He's his hero." She softened her voice. "He's overcome all of the bullshit and become a captain to this team. He has never compromised who he was, and he always keeps his word. He's a role model to my son and to his friends. He wants to follow in his footsteps. Not as a cop, but...with the same heart." She looked over at Ty and Carol and smiled. "It causes some issues with his dad, but it can't be helped."

Rosita smiled. "I can see that. Uh, the other stuff, not the issues."

"Yeah." She tucked hair behind her ear and closed the bottle of water. "One day, he'll retire, you know."

"Yeah, I know." She swallowed with difficulty. "It'll be a shity day when he does. He's like...Cop Dad or something." She laughed.

"Yeah, he pretty much fathers everyone. It's a shame he never had any kids of his own. The job takes a lot, I've noticed." She met her eyes. "It's not too late for him, but...the only woman he ever wanted..."

Rosita's brows furrowed. "What?"

"It didn't work out. A lot of things happened back in his rookie days, and she was one of them. I shouldn't have brought it up. I guess...it's just because of Stillman's retirement coming up. I sometimes wish his was coming up. It'd do my heart some good."

"It's a risk, but we all know what we're getting into when we join the force. It's...something we can live with, something we have to. Our lives...aren't our own. They belong to the shield."

"They shouldn't have to."

Rosita averted her eyes. "It's just the way it is."

"Well, it's wrong. You protect our city, and your lives aren't your own? That's crap." She huffed and apologized. "I never approve of him being a cop." A chuckle. "He never approved of me being a firefighter, so I guess we're on even ground."

"Guess so."

A commotion broke their conversation, Beth returned with Lauren from changing her diaper, and Tyreese was the first one to take the baby, and Rosita couldn't help her smile widening at the sight of Boss with baby Lauren. It was so sweet. She wondered how different Boss would be if he had a family. She couldn't picture it. She was so used to by-the-book and straight lace Boss. And Dad to them grown ups Boss. She couldn't see him as anything else, not even with a hint of it in front of her. Perhaps...she needed to change that part of her. The part that wouldn't be changed.

"She looks just like Glenn's baby pictures." Maggie adjusted the frilly top Mom had sent through the mail. "I'll have to bring them—"

"No." Glenn cut her off. "No, you won't."

"You were a cute baby."

"Maybe, but not in any of the pictures my mother took."

"Okay, fine." Maggie winked at Boss, and he chuckled, stopping Lauren from chewing on his shield, which he wore as a necklace. "Ooh, sorry about that."

"It's all right. She can't hurt it."

"You're so good with her." Carol folded her arms. "I guess having a nephew helps."

"Yeah, Sasha let me do all the heavy lifting," he joked.

Sasha didn't let that slide. "You planted yourself directly in my path."

"You were sickly after he was born," he argued.

"Yes, but not so sickly I couldn't take care of him."

"I just wanted to help."

"His help was putting me in bed and turning to Google to help him figure out why Tajh was crying even after he did everything he could think of." She arched a brow. "He just wanted his mama."

Maggie chuckled. "Uncle Ty can't do it all."

"No, I can't, but I can try." There was an expression that flashed across his face for a moment so brief that no one had noticed. It was regret, bitter and cold and unforgettable. The worst kind of regret. The kind that clawed at the skin and the heart, that kind of regret that images and feelings never leave, and you remained there...chained forever.

"Okay, I didn't bring all this toilet paper to not snowman someone." Tara threw a roll up in the air and caught it, grinning at Boss. "Boss...you know you want it."

"I think Glenn wants it more." Aaron slapped a hand down on his shoulder. "How about it, Rhee? You and me? Against one another?"

Glenn inhaled. "As long as I get first call."

"Deal."

"I want Eric." Glenn stepped back.

"I want Maggie."

Maggie lost her amused smile. "No, no. I have to help keep Lauren cal—"

"She's fine with Boss. She thinks he's a huge teddy bear." Aaron smirked. "Come join the winning team."

She rolled her eyes and strolled over to him. "Okay, fine."

"Carol," Glenn called.

"Tara."

"Rosita."

"Sasha."

"You're putting partners against partners?" Carol arched a brow. "Interesting move."

"You got a problem with that?" Aaron asked. "We can...try and switch it up."

"No, Tara and I work well as a team, but we can also work against each other." She arched a brow. "Remember our rookie years?"

"I do." She smirked. "You're gonna go down."

"I think that's your thing, if I remember correctly."

"Well, we could always ask Daryl," Tara jested.

"Well, I'm sure you'd love to ask him a lot of things, but right now your ass needs to be kicked." She grasped a roll of TP from the bag on the desk beside her. "Say when, Boss."

The game was quite simple: wrap the chosen person in toilet paper so that no skin shows, toss on a hat, and pop a carrot in the mouth. The quicker and most efficient time wins.

Boss played the judge with Lauren, and in the end it was Glenn's team who won, and Tara threw her half used roll at Carol. Carol took it pretty well, because she was in charge of the Pie A Detective. She gave herself the first toss at Tara, and it turned into a mess, but Boss had brought trash bags for the piees to wear, so it was contained to faces and hair. Sadly, the floor was another problem.

Tara and Rosita cleaned it up while Maggie and Tyreese broke out the feast while Aaron and Eric pulled out the wobbly plastic table and the Glenn brought up the highchair. Carol set up the table while Sasha pulled out the plastic ware and drinks. It was...lovely, even in all the tacky lights and the smell and sounds of the office. It was...like being at home.

"Okay." Sasha crossed her legs and turned towards Carol, everybody else in their own conversations or fawning over baby Lauren mashing up her food. "I hear you found a man. Yet I see no man."

Carol tilted her head to the side, chuckling somewhat awkwardly, and she looked at her. "He...has plans of his own tonight."

"Oh."

"That's all?"

"Do you want me to prod you until you tell me every detail of your love life?"

"No. I'm just used to that."

"I'm just catching up on my brother's squad. I don't need all the details. I'm pleased you're not...miserable anymore."

"I'm the farthest thing from miserable." She pulled out an elated smile. "I...don't think I've ever been this happy before."

"Have you found "the one"?" She was only partly teasing.

"I don't know if I believe in that, but...maybe so."

"Well, I hope so. I need someone to do couples dates with. Glenn and Maggie are out since baby Lauren popped up. They're too sleepy to even get through appetizers."

She giggled. "I'll let you know."

"Please do."

Across the table, Tara and Glenn were talking about holiday plans with the family, and Rosita sat beside her, trying to figure out what exactly was in this casserole Sasha had brought.

"I'm ready to be back home already." Glenn sighed softly. "We have to visit my family and Maggie's all in to days, and as much as I love my family and hers, I just...don't think I can handle it back to back, especially with Lauren this year."

"They're already askin' when we'll give her a brother." Maggie managed to eat something for the first time since they sat down. Luckily it was still good cold.

"I'm glad to never have that problem." Rosita gave up on trying to eat the casserole and moved back to the mac and cheese. It was homemade and delicious.

"You don't want kids?" Glenn wasn't surprised.

"Well, if I do decide, I'll be thirty or forty and possibly be in a better..career. Don't get me wrong. I love working here with you all, but I...would like to strive for higher things, bigger things. I want to do more than help one city."

"That's awesome, Rosita."

Tara didn't know what to say. She didn't know that. She had no idea what her goals were in this field, but she was happy to know she did think ahead sometimes. She set her hand on her thigh and squeezed gently, and Rosita didn't react, but the corner of her mouth twitched. It wasn't her chewing either.

"You'll do great." Maggie encouraged. "You'll make us all proud."

"I'll try." She grinned shyly and set her hand over Tara's under the table briefly, seemingly adjusting the cloth napkin in her lap. "So, do you want more kids?"

"Nuh-uh." Maggie shook her head. "Not until this one is bigger."

"Maybe two or three," Glenn added. "Uh, her age, not number of kids."

"One might be enough, though."

Rosita nodded. "Well, life surprises you. Who can say what'll happen in a month or a year or four."

"True. I guess we'll see what happens." Maggie set her hand over Glenn's on the table.

Rosita glanced over and caught Beth talking with Aaron by the fridge as they refilled their drinks, and she tapped her fork against her plate a couple times before excusing herself. She passed Aaron and caught Beth alone. She offered a smile as a greeting.

"Hey." Beth swallowed. "About your message..."

"You don't want to?"

"No, no. That's not it. I just..." She exhaled. "I think it's really just between the parents and me. I appreciate what you're tryin' to do, lookin' out for your friends, but I am...sure of my decision."

"It would be...if I wasn't positive of your...unease. I don't think you can handle this. I'm not trying to bully you or be rude or cruel. I'm just trying to be sure you know every angle of this. I know you're giving. You're kind, but this isn't...only about being giving or kind. It's hard. It's gonna be the hardest thing you do. The most amazing, if you can handle it, but it'll be..agony, Beth."

"I know it won't be easy. I know...all of it. I am trying to do something great for them, because they can't do it themselves, and adoption is expensive. It can take years. I'm sure it'll be worth it, but...I've made my choice."

"All right." She nodded, hands up in a motion of peace. "I...understand your...er, resolve. I hope it works out."

"It will." She walked away, brushing by Rosita close enough that the force of air nearly knocked her back.

Tara caught Beth walking hastily away from Rosita, and she shook her head. It would work out on its own. She would just have to let it play out as it would. Hopefully Rosita would do the same after this. If not, she would have to question why Rosita was really pressing this issue. Did she want to carry the baby? Or did she just not want Eric and Aaron to have a child? That second was implausible. She was fully supportive of them and their relationship. Yet...the first seemed equally implausible. So...what was the truth?

––

As it turned out, the gifts were not display. Boss had gotten them all something, and it was beautifully sentimental to each of his detectives. He gave Maggie and Sasha and Beth some jewelry, and he gave Lauren a scented stuffed animal. It was Lavender, to sooth her in the night, and Glenn and Maggie tackled him in a hug. It was so thoughtful. He was such a softie. Ugh, they loved him so much. And he loved them so much. They were a team. A family. Nothing would come between them. No one would destroy this team, his team, and he would make sure of it.

Tara and Rosita went out with Aaron and Eric for drinks afterward, Maggie and Beth went to join them when Glenn assured her he'd take care of Lauren, and Sasha headed out to his with him to help. She wanted to get more baby time. Her boy was no longer a baby, and that smell and those little toes and chubby legs were getting to her. She needed much cuddles.

That left Carol to help Boss clean up the food. She made a plate for Daryl, and Boss put the remaining items in the fridge for later use. He glanced over at Carol as she struggled to figure out which lid fit the Tupperware she had. He chuckled and pulled out the aluminum foil.

"Here."

"Thanks. I don't think any of these fit." She chuckled and covered it.

"For Daryl?"

"Yes. He has some plans with his niece and her mother tonight, and I didn't...want to interrupt." She peeked at his face.

"You're his girlfriend. That hardy seems like an interruption."

"We haven't been together long enough for me to cut into family time," she tried to argue.

"If he cares about you the way I see how you care about him, it's been enough time." He set a hand on her shoulder. "I can't say anything good towards him as I haven't met the young man, but you can let him in a little. With us, I mean."

She opened her mouth then closed it and turned back to her Tupperware. "I..."

"I don't think I'm one to be giving relationship advice, but...I think you and he work well. A lot better than you and Shane, if I may say so."

"Yeah, you never did like Shane." She scratched her cheek and laughed softly.

"Not with you."

"Guess you were right."

"I just trusted my gut." He squeezed her shoulder and removed his hand. "You should try it sometime. Instinct is a powerful thing. Don't forget that."

"I'll try not to." She picked up the container and smiled. "Thanks, Tyreese. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Peletier. Here's...hoping we can enjoy it with those who matter."

"Yeah, right." She nodded and headed out. "Good night!"

"You too."

She slipped out of the building and shuddered against the cold, heading for her car. She minded the slippery patches of ice and set the container on top of her car as she dug her keys out of her pockets. She wished she had dug them out beforehand. These pockets were deep enough to mine for gold.

"Lose something?"

She looked up to find Shane a few feet in front of her on the steps, and she swallowed before pulling her hands out of her pockets. "Not that it concerns you, but...yeah."

"Used to concern me." He took one step down, and she drew back. He stopped. "Guess it won't again."

"No, it won't."

"A man can dream." He closed the space between them, his eyes falling on the doggy bag. "That for Southern Boy?"

"His name is Daryl, Shane. And he happens to mean more to me than I can even explain to you. You need to stop."

"Unlikely."

She rolled her eyes. "I may not have my gun on me, but I can still kick your ass. Or file harrassment charges. Keep it up, Shane. I dare you."

"My wanting you is harassment?"

"When it's unreciprocated, yes, it is."

"All right then."

"Does that mean you'll stop?"

"That means...I'll try a different approach."

She let out a defeated groan. "Can't you just let me go? Let whatever the hell you think we had go? I did. It...took a lot out of me, but I did. I've moved on. I'm happy. Daryl is the only man I want now, and maybe we won't make it, but maybe we will. And while I know you're not powerful enough to chase him off, you're annoying enough to put him in a bad mood. I don't want to spend my life with someone who could be it for me, but is utterly miserable and grumpy all the damn time because of you!"

"Could be "it" for you, huh?"

"Yeah, he could be. Do you really think I care if you have a problem with that?"

He reached out, she caught his wrist in a tight grip, and her keys dangled there, snow still clinging to the little stuffed badge Tara had given her after they graduated the academy. "You dropped these back there."

"Oh." She released his wrist and accepted the keys. "Thank you."

"No problem." He turned and headed towards his car, glancing back when he heard her phone chime. She set the food inside after dusting it off then pulled her phone out. It was a text. He knew the sound. He also knew the smile that lit up her entire face, and he knew it was Daryl who had brought that light. He could no longer do that for her.

But maybe one day Daryl would be in the same boat as him, and he could bring that light back to her face. Maybe he could right this mistake. Maybe... But as she pulled out and got further and further away, he felt little hope. Maybe...she was right. Maybe...it was time to just move on...

– – –

"It is really time for you to go?" Rosita was trying to keep how upset she was out of her voice as they stood in the middle of the airport, all bundled up to fight off the cold.

"The morning...flew by, didn't it?" She bit her bottom lip. "Pun not intended."

She laughed. "God, I'd hope not. That was an awful one." She lightly punched her arm. "Ugh, leave me to the wolves that are my family. Especially after they know about you."

"I'm sorry. Maybe next holiday I can answer all their questions and crap."

"You'd better." She smiled faintly. "Maybe Carol can join us... After with drinks and Daryl. I mean, a year's long enough, right?"

Tara beamed. "Yeah, it'd be long enough."

She hugged her arms. "Have a safe flight and call me when you land. Or once you get settled. Whichever is easier. Probably neither, so don't worry about calling me. You can see any anytime, just enjoy your time with Meg and Lil, okay?"

Tara reached out, tucking hair behind her ear and bringing her closer. "I will call you when I land and when I'm getting ready for bed. I'll let you talk to both Lilly and Meghan, and I will see you when I land back home."

She smiled and kissed her. "Be safe."

"You, too. Don't get into any trouble while I'm gone." She stroked her cheek and heard her flight being called. "I gotta go."

"Just come back."

"Always plan to." She kissed her once more before departing.

Rosita watched her until she fell out of sight, and she wiped her eyes, hating how emotional she was being. Tara would be fine, and she had other things to do. Like planning how to answer all the questions at her parents' house. That was enough to make her want to cry. Sheesh. It was going to be...awful. Just...awful.


	27. The Big 3

**A/N:** _I noticed most reviews to my Weight author's note asked me not to stop writing, but I'm not. I'm sorry if I implied that I was. I may have mistyped it. I didn't read over it before I posted it. Some writer, eh? Anyway, I'll try and finish this before my college term starts. Once it does, I'm not going to be on here really. Until then, here's this. Enj_ o _y._

 **Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**

* * *

"You sure you wanna go through with this?" Daryl was watching Carol chop up potatoes from the other side of the island where he was shelling green beans.

"Of course I want to. I want to meet your brother, Daryl. He's your family." She looked up. "Do you not want me to meet him? Just say so, and we can drop this."

"No, it's not that...I don't want you to meet him. It's just...complicated. Our relationship, our history—hell, your history with him."

"I don't expect tonight to run as smooth as silk, but...I just want to know him a little. Is that all right?"

"Well...do I get to meet your family?"

"You already have."

"Not really."

She shrugged off the ice that ran through at the mention of meeting family and smiled. "Well, there's a retirement party for one of ours, and everybody will be there. Do you maybe want to come as my date?"

"Won't...won't that be kinda awkward?"

"No. We're going to celebrate Stillman and all he's done for the force. It's going to a happy event. And...I really do you want to meet my family, my team."

He nodded. "When is it?"

"January 8th at four. It ends whenever Stillman calls it a night."

He smirked. "Open bar?"

"Yes." She arched a brow at him. "But don't meet my friends drunk. They're already overprotective. The last thing I want them to think is you're an alcoholic. They frown on that."

"I was jokin'. I'm nervous enough. Don't need to be impaired." He tossed a shell into the trash bag and groaned. "Does this end?"

She giggled. "Do you wanna switch?"

"I want this over." He laughed with her. "Shit, been doin' this for two hours now."

"I offered to order out."

"Yeah, but you showed up with bags," he grumbled.

"I haven't made a Christmas meal in a long time. Tara's out of state, and everyone else has family plans. I wanted to go all out for someone. Sorry it's for you."

He frowned. "I—I didn't mean to sound ungrateful. I'm just...not used to this. Am just...bakes a chicken with some sides. We don't do all of this."

"Well, I'm not Amy. I enjoy cooking, and this is how I always pictured a Christmas meal." She murmured the last part and continued to cut into the potatoes.

"It's gonna be great. I'm real...excited to be doin' this. Merle's gonna like you. He...obviously already made that known."

She smiled. "Yeah, he kinda did."

"He's gonna eat all of this food, though. He's kinda of a pig."

"Good thing we're making a lot then."

He watched her prepare her portions and smiled to himself. He didn't mind shelling so much after that. Okay, for a few minutes after that then she came to help him, because it was brutal. It still took a long time to get them all shelled out, but it was more fun with her right beside him. He didn't really care for cooking. He had to teach himself when Bri could chew solids, but he didn't care much for it. Cooking with Carol was...fun, though, and he did like it. It didn't hurt that she was a kickass cook. And it was nice to wake up to breakfast or to wake up and make breakfast for someone other than himself. He honestly...

"Thank God." Carol plucked the last green bean from the bag. "It ends."

He chuckled and took it from here. "I got this one."

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

She balled up the bag and prepared the pot for the green beans, tossing in potatoes and back fat for flavor. She cleaned and added the green beans in, sprinkling in some seasonings and covering the pot with a lid. She had a sizable turkey in the oven, this pot of green beans and potatoes, rolls to make and a pie to make for dessert. Luckily Daryl had two ovens. She really needed to hit up Jesus, because this kitchen was like a dream kitchen for her. Ugh, she could cook for days in it. And not worry about burning the entire building down or praying that sputtering sound was just in her head. Her apartment was a death trap. They seriously needed to move and condemn that place.

"Anythin' else I can help you with?" He washed his hands and dried them on a nearby towel.

"Do you want to learn how to make rolls? Homemade rolls? It's a family recipe."

"Really? From who?"

"My mother." She said it softly, without a trace of emotion, and he lowered his eyes. "It's about the only thing she ever gave me. They're pretty good. Sweet and flaky. If we make them right." She turned a huge smile towards him, refusing to dwell on her mother. Not today.

"We'll eat every last one." He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her.

She rested her head on his chest and closed her eyes, and he just held her. She inhaled deeply and lifted her head. "Do you wanna call Bri? See how her Christmas is going?"

"Yeah, we can call her." He pulled her phone out from her back pocket and unlocked it, finding it open to her gallery. He snickered. "Nice shot."

She blushed, knowing it was pictures from the real work Christmas party with booze. "Shut up and call Bri."

"I'm callin' her." He closed it down and pulled up her contacts, finding Amy's number and calling it. "It's ringing."

"I can hear." She leaned back on the counter, he leaned with her, and she nearly scolded him. He was pressed up right against her, causing her to be leaning over the counter, her elbows supporting her from flattening her back out. She could feel everything, both pressing into her back and pressing into her front.

"Hey, Am. Merry Christmas." He didn't acknowledge that he had her trapped. "Could I talk to Bri real quick?"

Carol sighed and tried to adjust to the wooden spoon poking along her spine, hoping that it was at least clean. She had a few sets of clothes over here and her dinner outfit, so she wasn't too worried. She just didn't want to walk around with a stain on her back and not know it.

" _Uncle Daryl!_ " Bri was super excited, and it was probably the first time either had heard her use his full name. " _Thank you so much for the gifts! You and Carol!_ "

Carol smiled at that.

"You're welcome, sweetheart. How's everything over there?"

" _Mom's boyfriend is here_." She sounded disgusted. Her face scrunched up. " _I don't like him. He's...mean_."

Daryl straightened up and moved away from Carol at that. "How is he mean?"

Carol followed him, despite the phone being on speaker.

" _He just...looks at me weird, and he doesn't like that I don't use your full name. He says I'm big enough to use your entire name, and he scolds me if I say the other._ " She sighed. " _And he's grouchy all the time_."

"All the time?" Daryl looked at Carol. "How long has he been there?"

" _Since last Friday_." She pursed her lips. " _I want him to go home. I don't like him here. He's creepy, and I don't like him with my mom._ "

"Do you...feel unsafe? Do you need me to come and get you?"

" _I don't wanna leave Mom with him_."

"Bri, answer the question."

She sighed again. "... _yeah_."

"Okay, you get your mom on the phone."

" _She's with him right now. They're watching TV._ "

"I don't care. Get her on the phone."

" _Okay_." She went to the living room and pulled her mom away back to her bedroom, hanging over the phone. " _It's Da_."

" _Daryl?_ " Amy was confused. " _I thought you wanted to talk to—_ "

"Get Bri out of that house right now. Take her to your sister's."

" _Excuse me? Why?_ "

"It's Christmas. She should see her aunt."

" _We saw Andrea last night. And she's over at her in-laws with her kids. I can't just go over there. And I'm with my boyfriend_."

"Sounds like a damn good time."

" _Why can't you just let me be happy? Why can't you just accept that I have found—_ "

"He makes Bri feel unsafe," Daryl divulged. "He looks at her. Did you know that? She said he looks at her weird. Now that weird can be one of two things, and I don't want either to be made into an action, so you get her to your sister's. Or you just get out of that apartment. Because I will kill him, Am. I will fucking kill him."

" _Wait—wait, what?_ " She looked at her daughter, who sat on the edge of the tub. " _She—said that?_ "

"Yeah, and she's probably too scared to tell you."

" _That's ridiculous. She can tell me anything_." She dropped to her knees in front of Bri, grasping her forearm tenderly. " _Baby, you can tell me anything. You know that, don't you?_ "

" _I know that...but not when it comes to Randall. You just get mad._ "

" _What? That's silly._ " She stroked her arm with her thumb. " _And...if it's not then I am so sorry, baby girl." She drew in a breath. "Has...has he done anything? To...to you?_ "

" _No. He just...stares. It's makes my skin crawl._ "

Amy gulped. " _Thank you for calling, Daryl. I—I need to go. Uh, I'll call you later._ "

"Take care of yourselves, and I love you, Bri, okay? You need me, just call me. Doesn't matter what time it is."

" _I will. I love you too, Da._ " She smiled. " _Merry Christmas, Carol!_ "

Carol smiled. "Merry Christmas, honey."

Daryl spoke a few more words to Amy then hung up, his jaw clenching, and Carol set her hand over his. He looked at her, fuming, and she rubbed his arm.

"I'll call my friend Rosita. She's at her parents' house, and her brother is married to Andrea. If Amy shows, I'll have her text me. If she doesn't, we're going over there. Okay? I have my handcuffs."

"How about your gun?"

"Daryl."

"Just knowin' he looked at her in a way that made her uncomfortable makes me wanna bash his head in."

"But he didn't do anything, Daryl, remember? He didn't touch her. He only looked. They'll be with Andrea soon."

"And if he follows 'em?"

"Then Rosita and her many cousins will kick his ass."

"I don't like it. He knows where she lives. He knows where Bri goes to school. I don't like it."

"Then Amy will take her to school, or I will, and you can pick her up. We'll do the same for Amy. They'll be okay. He won't touch them."

He shivered. "I—I fuckin' want to just..."

"Nothing happened."

"But he thought about it!" he erupted. "He looked at her like she wasn't a little girl, and he was going to act on that! I knew he was an asshole—I felt it—but I didn't think he'd want to touch my niece! She's a little girl!"

"I know she is, but he didn't. He wanted to, but he didn't. I will personally look into him so that he doesn't touch any little girl or boy. I'll contact sex crimes and put them on alert. They owe me a favor. They will catch him."

"If he does somethin' they can prove," Daryl added.

She couldn't argue that. They needed evidence, and for evidence, he'd have to do something. They would need to prove he was a danger. Damn it. "I'll do the best I can."

"I know." He exhaled. "Doesn't make me any less pissed."

"I'll call Rosita, okay? Once they arrive, you'll feel better." She kissed his shoulder and collected her phone.

––

The house was jam packed. It was filled from room to room, from wall to wall, with her relatives. It kept the cold off, but that was the only upside. They still wanted to catch up with their little Rosita was doing in love and life. Sadly they were less interested in her career. At least the ones who pestered her most. She could use her baby cousins to delay them but only to a point. She'd just have to..tell them the truth. The whole truth and nothing but the truth.

"You look miserable." Caesar reached around her for one of the many snacks on the counter and around the house. "Anything I can do?"

"Not until you can make me disappear."

"I can try." He opened up his jacket. "Hop in."

She snorted a laugh and hit him. "Shut up."

He smiled. "Got a smile, though. Looks better than the sour puss face."

"How's Andrea doing? I hear the ass is back in town."

"Yeah, he arrived last night." His brow arched briefly, his eyes rolling, and he sighed. "He wanted Liv today, but she's...ours. She's spending Christmas with us. With people she actually knows and loves and who love her. He can have tomorrow. Two hours of it. If he plans his cards right."

"If she needs someone to kick his ass, I'll be there."

"Right with ya." He drank from his cup. "Where's the girlfriend?"

"With her family. She's...related to Lilly, Phillip's wife."

"Oh...oh, poor woman." He frowned sorrowfully. "She could not have picked a worse man."

"I know, right?" She sighed. "But the heart wants what it wants."

"The heart in this case should be locked away and prosecuted."

She chuckled. "I'll let her know that."

"Please do. And I will personally house this Lilly if she decides to leave him."

"She has a kid."

"The kid, too. Liv could always use another friend."

"Meghan's a teenager."

"So? I could use a teenager to help me prepare for Liv's teenage years."

"You always find the silver lining, don't you?"

"Yeah, I try." He searched her eyes. "You should try it, too."

"I do!"

"Do you know who you're lying to?"

"Okay, so I don't. Sometimes the silver lining is actually bronze!"

"Or an ugly, rust color." Andrea joined them, hands on her hips. "I can get on board with that right now."

"And there goes my wife." He tossed back his drink. "What happened?"

"Phillip and his entire existence." She huffed. "I want him out of my city. Now. I don't want Liv anywhere near him. I don't...see why he wants to visit her now. I can't find any angle that he could use her, and it's driving me insane. I can't enjoy the holidays. Hell, he might be doing this just so I can't enjoy the holidays."

"A bit petty for him," Rosita pointed out.

"I know. That's why I'm still digging."

"Can't we just be in this moment?" Caesar begged. "We're surrounded by family and good food and music. Why can't we just..chillax for a moment?"

"Wow, I didn't know you married a fifteen year old from 2007." Rosita set a hand on her hip. "All you need now are shoes with wheels and—"

"I'm serious," Caesar cut her off. "I don't want this energy to get any further than you two. It's Christmas. I don't want work or drama to screw it up. It does that every other day of the year, so can we please just...not?"

Andrea swallowed and nodded. "Yeah, sorry."

"Me too, bro." Rosita pulled out a small smile. "No more glumness from this girl. For today."

"Thanks, sis." He smiled at her and wrapped an arm around his wife's waist. "I really—"

Rosita's phone interrupted him, he frowned deeply, and she answered it, knowing it was Carol, not work, from the ringtone. She could hardly hear her, so she excused herself to the bathroom. She was surprised to not have to fight someone for it. Maybe they were too busy dancing off the drinks. Who could say?

"Wait, what?" Rosita stopped walking when she finally made sense of Carol's words. "Did—did he touch her? Do I have to kill him? I will murder him and hide his body so damn well it'll be Rush who has to find me."

" _No, he didn't. But if he did, same._ " She exhaled. " _Look, Amy will be over there soon, just...text me if she doesn't show. Then I'll bust out the shovels and call you to help me kick ass._ "

"Ooh, you got it."

" _Keep an eye out for me. You know how to tell._ "

"I do." She nodded. "I'll call if... I'll call."

" _Text if she doesn't show, silence if she does, and call if,_ " Carol recited, and Rosita repeated it. " _Thank you._ "

"You got it, babe." She smiled somewhat. "Oh, and congrats."

" _For what?_ "

"You and Daryl are spending Christmas together? Does that not ring a bell in that curly head of yours?"

" _It...did, but this day means little to him, so._ "

"It's still a huge holiday, and you're meeting Merle. That's a big one. I'm...super stoked for you. Tell me everything...you know, when you get out of bed next week."

" _Oh, shut up._ " She blushed brightly. " _God, Rosita!_ "

"That good, huh?"

" _I—I have to go._ _I have a turkey in the oven."_

"I'll bet."

" _Ugh. I love you. Merry Christmas. Let me know. I love you_ ," she blurted it all out one after another without breathing and hung up on her.

"I love you, too." She looked at her phone and gripped it tightly, closing her eyes. She smacked herself with the edge of the phone a couple times then dragged herself out of the bathroom. There were other things she had to do today, and feeling like shit wasn't a priority. She had plenty of time for that at home with wine. And rum.

"Rosita." It was one of her aunts. "You look sad."

"It's nothing. I'm just...overworked."

She didn't buy that. "Come help me and your mom with dinner."

"Oh, I'd love to, but I actually can't. I...have a friend coming over, and it's important that I know if she arrives." She studied her unyielding eyes. "I will be in there right after...?"

"Okay." She pinched her cheek. "I hope she arrives safely." She walked off.

"Me, too," Rosita murmured. "Me, too."

And thankfully it didn't take too long for that relief of an answer as Amy and Brianna entered through the front door. Rosita shot out of her seat and hurried over to them, Andrea was right behind her, and Caesar was confused, so he tagged along.

"Amy." Rosita smiled at the sight of them. "Bri. You made it. Good."

"Not much of a choice." Amy gripped her daughter's hand tighter.

"What are you doing here?" Andrea looked from her sister to her niece. "Is everything okay?"

"Not really." Tears rose up in Amy's eyes.

"Okay." Caesar clapped his hands together. "Bri, it's you and me, kid. Okay?"

Bri blinked. "What's you and me?"

"Well, you'll have to catch me to find out." He smirked, tapped her nose and took off.

"What?" Bri let go of her mom's hand and huffed. "That's just... Get back here!" She took off after him.

"There's a room upstairs," Rosita informed the sisters. "To the left. It's my old room. You can use it. No one will bother you."

"Where will you be?" Andrea held her sister in her arm.

"I got...plans." Her lips flattened, each side pulling up, and it was a sour look. "I didn't ask for them, but I have them. If you'll excuse me." She weaved her way through her family to the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves on the way.

"C'mon." Andrea guided Amy upstairs to the room Rosita had mentioned. She knew the way as she had used it to put her kids down for naps for years. Caesar's old room didn't sooth them for a nap, but Rosita's did. With the lavender walls and the faint scent of her old perfume brand, it lulled them both to sleep. It had a calm air to it, and it made sense for the sisters to talk there. It would...help.

"What's going on?" Andrea sat her down on the bed, taking the space beside her, still holding her arm.

"My boyfriend," she snuffled. "He's...a creep."

"What? Randall? The guy you were telling me about? I thought you liked him."

"I didn't." She couldn't look at her sister. "I never did. I was trying to settle for Bri's sake..."

"You'd never settle for anything to do with Bri."

"Okay, so I wanted help with my bills," Amy blurted, gripping the bed sheets with white knuckle fists, eyes clenched shut, head down in shame. "I—I've been scraping by for so long, and then Randall came along...and helped me out. I...I just felt stress come off me, and it was nice. So we started dating, but I never felt anything towards him. I just...liked how stress-free I felt, but I felt terrible so I tried to. I really tried to like him, but I couldn't."

"It's okay if you broke up with him."

She opened her eyes. "He's been staying at my place for a few days now...and today, I found out he's been looking at my daughter."

"What?" Andrea's jaw clenched.

"She told Daryl he was watching her, and it was with a weird look. I...I never noticed. I was too busy playing with her or managing my bills. I—I didn't notice, and it could've—he could've—"

"Hey, hey, don't. Don't. Shhh." She pulled her into a hug. "It didn't. He didn't. It's all right. She's gonna be fine. She'll forget about it."

"But I won't," Amy wailed. "I put her in danger, Andrea. I'm her mother. I'm supposed to protect her."

"You did. You got her out of here."

"No," she pulled away from her sister to meet her eyes, "Daryl told me to get her out of there. She told him. Not me. She should be able to tell me things, but she feels like she can't. I made her feel and think like that. I'm an awful mother."

"No."

"If anyone looked at Liv in any way, you'd be on it. Caesar, too. They'd be tripping backwards off a bridge. I'm the one tripping now."

"Okay, you need to calm down. I know what could have happened, but it didn't. You got her out, and she knows now. If anyone looks at her like that, she'll tell you or Daryl. She knows it's not a good look. She's a smart kid. She'll get help if she ends up in that situation again, you know that."

"I don't know what I'm gonna do, Andrea. He knows...a lot about us and her. What if he wants her? Just her?"

"He will never have her. He will never be near her, okay? I swear to you. I swear to you." She caught her cheeks and made her keep eye contact. "He'll be locked up before he breathes near either of you again. I'll make sure of that."

"Me, too." Caesar entered the room with a box of tissues, Andrea released her cheeks, and Amy whimpered. "Here."

"Where's Bri?" She accepted a tissue.

"With a few of her cousins." He smiled at her. "Doin' the kid thing, havin' a blast."

She smiled a little. "That's good."

"She's a resilient little miss, just like you. It'll be okay." He set a hand on her shoulder. "She's got so many people protecting her. He won't be able to look at her without risking a broken bone."

"Or lawsuit," Andrea tossed in.

"Thank you...both. Really." She blew her nose.

"You're family. We got you." He squeezed her shoulder and let go. "You're more than welcome to stay here tonight. Or come home with us. We have the guest bedroom, and some of Bri's clothes from her previous weekend stay. Andrea and you are about the same size, right?"

"You don't have to do that."

"Yeah, but we want to." Andrea clasped her hand. "I need plenty of niece bonding time, so don't be selfish. Come and stay with us. I need Bri cuddles."

"Thanks."

"I'll go check on the kids." Caesar stepped back. "Dinner's about ready, so wash up."

"And don't forget that this is your family, too." Andrea tucked hair behind her ear, peeling hairs away from wet cheeks. "You know how welcoming his family is."

"I feel like an idiot and a burden."

"The only idiotic thing is feeling that way. You have us and them and friends. Don't forget that, Am."

"I...suppose." She swallowed. "I'll try."

"Okay." She rose. "The bathroom's down the hall to the left. I'm gonna go help round up the kids."

She nodded and composed herself, heading to the bathroom to splash water on her face. The cool relief eased her nerves somewhat, and she steeled herself. It was Christmas. Bri already had a bad start to it. She couldn't let it end like that.

She opened the door and joined...her family.

– – –

"So, how are you doing over there in Philly?" Lilly drank a fresh cup of coffee with her sister for the first time in far too long. It felt good. She had missed her baby sister, and phone calls weren't enough. She hardly had time to ring, so this...was much needed. She couldn't have a better Christmas gift.

"It's the same, a little kidnapping, a little arson. Full of murders." She smirked at her. "It's good, though, and...uh, so am I."

"I'm glad."

"Well, actually, no." Tara lowered her mug. "I'm not good. That's not even the correct word to use."

"Oh. How are you?"

"I...I'm kinda...very much in love with someone," Tara confessed, peering into her sister's eyes.

"What?" Lilly gaped. "Oh, my God, Tara. Who? And when? Why didn't you tell me about this sooner? I told you all about my new stupid neighbors, and you had this? The hell?"

"I... I've been working up to it. It's hard to say." She picked at the handle to her cup. "Especially to the one who I feel this love towards."

"Who do you love? Do I know her?"

"Yeah, yeah, you do. You did." She cleared her throat. "It's someone from my unit actually... It's...erm, Rosita."

She thought back. "The...one who...invited strippers to Maggie's baby shower?"

"Yeah, her."

"I thought she was straight. And also _so_ not into dating."

"She isn't."

"Straight or into dating?"

"Both."

"Then...how complicated is this exactly, Tara?" She searched her eyes. "Are you going to get hurt?"

"It's a high possibility." There was no point in lying. There never was, really. "We slept together after drinking a lot, and...things changed. I tried to keep things as they were, but she's...pigheaded. She refused, and so we fought. We kept fighting until Boss...pulled us into his office to talk."

"Did you tell him?"

"God, no. he let us talk it out just us. We came to a then odd agreement. Now I realize it was shit. It was a total and utter shit agreement that has me fucked up inside." Tears sprang up in her eyes, and Lilly grasped her hand. "I don't know what to do about any of it. Rosita isn't ready for a real relationship, and...I can't keep holding everything in."

"It's okay, Tara."

"No, it's really not. Lilly...I've been hiding my relationship with her and my feelings for her for months. And we've made progress as a couple. I've met her family, and they like me. I—So, I don't understand why she wants to keep...me hidden away from our friends."

"Family is hardly around, but friends? You work with all of them. Maybe she wants a little privacy."

"I thought that, too, but it's been months. When does...it end? Because I feel like...I'm walking on eggshells around her. Lil, I can't even hold her hand in public." She rolled her eyes to the side, tears falling free with the motion, and she wiped at them with her fingers. "I feel like I'm back in high school, and my girlfriend isn't ready to be known as gay. Do you have any idea how much that hurts?"

Lilly lowered her eyes and tried to think of someway to cheer her up. "Maybe she's not ready."

"She never cared about labels before now."

"Well, she might have a reason to care about them now." She inhaled. "Tara, if she feels the same way about you, she might not be ready for the reality of it all. Things can fall to pieces with a strong enough breeze, and your friends know how all of your previous relationships have ended. And they know you both so well. She might be afraid of the judgement."

"She should at least talk about it with me then."

"I can't pretend to know her thoughts, but I know you. She must love you very much, because you are an amazing person. You're brave and sincere. You're compassionate and unyielding. You're gentle. You're...selfless. There's no way she couldn't love that about you and more. Love is complicated, Tara. I can't tell you how complex my feelings for Phillip could be. And there could be other factors. Her fears. Her insecurities. There's a lot going on with both of you. Failed relationships can cause a lot of damage, especially if they once felt as you do now. Love is...the best thing, but the damage and scars it can leave...can ruin the very soul."

She snuffled. "I just don't know."

"You don't have to know, just trust for now. And if you can't trust then ask. Talk to her about this. It clearly hurts you, and you can't move anywhere in your relationship with her if you don't get passed this, so talk to her. When you get back home, talk to her as soon as you can."

She nodded. "Thank you."

"It's what I'm here for." She smiled at her. "And if she hurts you, let me know so I can try and kick her ass."

She chuckled. "Sure."

"I said try."

"I know. And I love you for it."

"Mom?" Meghan poked her head out of the doorway and smiled at them, stepping out. "Dinner's almost ready. Can I _please_ open a gift now?"

"Okay." Lilly stood up and held up a singular finger. "One gift."

"Yes!" She beamed. "C'mon, Tara, help me pick it out!"

"Coming." She hopped up and followed her niece inside the house to the Christmas tree.

Lilly chuckled and collected the coffee cups before doing the same to see what her daughter had gotten this year from friends and distant family members. Lilly caught them in time to find Meghan wrestling a book-shaped item out its wrappings. She set the cups down and saw her pull out a book. It said _Beauty and The Beast,_ but it didn't look like a book.

Meghan opened it and gasped. "I love it."

"What is it?" Lilly drew closer.

"It's a makeup pallet." She showed her. " _Beauty and The Beast_ themed. It's beautiful, and it's my favorite movie."

"My girlfriend's too." Tara smirked. "She picked it out for you."

"Thank her for me." Meghan hugged her aunt. "Thank her for me so much! It's awesome!"

"I'll be sure to let her know." She rubbed her back and released her. "Send us pictures when you wear it."

"I absolutely will." She stood up and thoroughly showed it to her mom, happily.

Tara watched her sister and niece and considered what Lilly had said to her. Rosita had a lot of damage from prior relationships, and this was all new to her. It was new to both of them as they were friends first and lovers second. It made their relationship stronger, Tara believed, to have that foundation of friendship, and that was why Tara believed that come what might they would be fine. Their friendship was stronger than any break up or anything else that might occur. She believed that, so...maybe it was only fair to give Rosita a chance to see that, too. To hopefully believe it one day as well. She did need to talk to her. A serious conversation. It couldn't be avoided forever, and it was killing her to try. So once she returned and got settled back into her city life, she would sit Rosita down and talk. Consequences be damned.

And there would be plenty of consequences.

– – –

Rosita watched Amy cuddle up with Brianna as some of the kids opened their gifts, Caesar and Andrea were helping to pass out the gifts to the little ones, and it warmed her heart to watch her family interact. Her grandmother was telling stories to the older kids who had gotten their gifts cards in their Christmas cards, and her mom was handing out after dinner goodies with her aunts. Most of the men had gone outside to build a fire and have a drink and a laugh and toss around "mature" stories. The same as every year. And same as every year...there Rosita stood, looking in at her family...from a wall she'd build a long time ago.

"All right." Caesar rubbed his hands together after handing out the last of his gifts to the kids, and Andrea curled up beside Amy with Demi and his new toy in her lap. "Right."

Brianna rested her head on her mom's chest and saw a small blue and white box pop into her vision. "Huh?"

"Not "huh"," Caesar corrected. "Yours."

"But... You don't have to give me anything just because the other kids got stuff."

"It's not because your cousins got gifts. It's because your family." He grasped her arm tenderly and set the box in her hand. "Merry Christmas, Brianna."

She smiled slowly. "Thank you."

He smiled back and straightened up, groaning at the pain in his back, and Andrea rolled her eyes at him. He smirked at her then slipped outside to find his dad and uncles.

Rosita leaned against the wall and inhaled deeply before pushing off and joining Andrea and Amy. She sat beside Andrea, looking at the TV and not at them just yet.

"Are you gonna open it?" Amy asked her daughter.

"Yeah." Brianna pulled on the paper and revealed a white box. She set the paper on the floor, Amy swiped it up, and Brianna opened box to find a set of earrings. They were beautiful and opal, and she instantly fell in love with them. "Wow."

"You like them?"

"Yeah, they're cute." She smiled at her mom.

"We'll write Caesar a thank you card." Amy smoothed her hair down.

"Actually, it wasn't Caesar," Andrea corrected. "It was Marie and Sal."

"Really?" Brianna twisted around on the floor to view her aunt. "But why?"

"Because, silly, you're their family." She caught her chin and closed her mouth before it hit the floor, smiling. "You have a home here, too, Bri."

She pursed her lips. "I do?"

"Of course."

She returned her smile and hugged her aunt. "I love you guys."

"We love you, too." She gripped her arm and kissed her temple. "Merry Christmas, sweetheart."

"Merry Christmas."

Bri stood up and went to thank Marie and Sal, and Amy rested her head on her sister's shoulder, smiling down at her nephew, and Rosita pulled her legs up to her chest.

"Why did you marry him?" Rosita murmured.

Andrea looked over at her sister-in-law. "Excuse me?"

"Why did you marry him?" She didn't look at her.

"Well, for the obvious reason, I was pregnant." She adjusted Demi as he tried to wriggle away. "And the even more obvious reason is because I love him."

"Is it that simple?" She dared a look at her, and any insult Andrea felt vanished at the lost look in those jet orbs, so very like her husband's.

"No." Andrea exhaled. "It's difficult. We have fights and bad days, too, like every couple in the world, but at the end of the day, we're happy. We love each other and our kids, and we've built on that. We have a home and a strong relationship. A strong foundation. We're...a lot alike, and it can be problematic, but mostly I think it's just our personalities rubbing off on the each other."

"It's worth it, though?"

"Of course." Andrea picked Demi up off the floor and hushed him gently when he pouted. He wanted his dad, but it was far too cold for him to be outside, and Caesar needed some male bonding time or whatever they had to offer out there. "Having someone to fall asleep next to or wake up beside is...everything. Even after our worst fights, seeing him the next day is...well, everything. He's my best friend, the father of my kids, and...he's the man I want to fight with every day about throwing away empty creamer bottles for the rest of my life." She chuckled. "Trust me, it's an every day battle, but...the peace is pretty damn awesome."

She gulped.

"If you can find someone who means as much to you as your brother means to me then you're damn lucky, because it's real."

"Isn't it terrifying?"

"To be honest," Andrea confessed, "a little. To meet and be with someone who matches me in almost every way another human can is...a relief. I don't have to be "waiting" anymore, you know? And I get to experience this new joy and love with him and our children. I get to share it with our families, and it's exhilarating to be able to say that. But...at the same time, it...stops me cold sometimes."

"What does?" Amy whispered, her heart pounding in her chest.

"One day I'll wake up, and he won't be there. Or he'll wake up, and I won't be there. It...makes the world seem so cruel and dark and twisted, but...only for a moment. What we have means too much for me to dwell on that thought."

"What if he...cheats on you? Or lies to you about something...really bad?"

"He won't. I know him, and he won't."

"But he could," Rosita urged.

"No, you know him, too. The only affair your brother's gonna have is with football and work. Maybe a good bottle of rum, but that's it. He has a loyal heart, and his love towards me is more potent than any feelings of temptation. It takes trust, but...it's easy."

"For you," she muttered.

"If you can't trust whoever you're with, then you should just break up with them and cut them out of your life," Amy told her. "It's not worth it. Life... life shouldn't be spend wasting what precious time you have. It's should be spent...with the people you love and what you're passionate about and all of the good stuff."

"That's oversimplifying things a bit," Andrea commented, "but...overall, yes, that's true."

Amy smiled and stood up. "I'm gonna go join Marie." She started to say more but then walked over to where Marie and her siblings were playing cards.

Andrea shook her head. "That girl has her heart in knots, you know it?"

"Yeah." Tears shined in Rosita's eyes but didn't fall.

"When you meet the person who makes everything better and brings the best out of you and who...tries every day to be better for you and for them then...you fight for it." She embraced her son. "And you don't let go, and if it's right...they won't let go either."

"And if it's wrong?"

"Well," she smooshed down his bouncy curls and grinned, "then they let go when they're ready, not before. It can be difficult. There were a lot of hopes and expectations there, but...in the end, there's so many more with someone else out there who will make them become more than just hopes and expectations. They become real, and that thought is powerful. It really...kicks you off in...some direction. Hopefully it's the direction...to that person, but who knows? All roads lead somewhere, and who knows who you'll pick up on the way?"

Rosita met her eyes and smiled slowly. "Yeah...that makes sense."

"If it gets you this worked up, I don't think you have much further to look." She stood up then to change Demi's diaper.

Rosita inhaled and rolled her eyes back to keep from crying, laughing at her stupid emotions, and she buried her face in her hands. Ugh, fucking periods, man. She snuffled and felt her phone buzz. She pulled it out and found Tara's number on the screen...

– – –

Daryl watched Carol get ready to meet his brother. She had taken a shower and water dripped down her figure as she wrapped herself in a towel, stepping out of the shower and standing in front of the mirror. She looked herself over before opening the little bag she had brought with her. She pulled out items to make up her face and to fix her arm, beads of water sliding down her calves as she did so.

She filled the counter with all the things she'd need and removed the towel, lifting her leg up some to dry it. She repeated the action with the other, her eyes moving over to where Daryl was sitting on his bed, and she smirked somewhat devilishly. She approached the door, the towel in her hand, the light shining on her back, blurring out her front. She closed the door with a chuckle, and he pursed his lips before heaving a sigh and heading to the kitchen to check on the food once again.

Carol shook her head and continued to ready herself, slipping her fingers through her curls and praying they worked with her for once in her life. She ran her fingers over her makeup brushes and remembered the blue dress she had picked out to wear tonight. It was a comfortable and stretchy maxi dress, but it would be classy enough for Merle. It'd also be easy for Daryl to remove later tonight...

She smiled as she drew on her lipstick, settling for a simple and light color, and she stopped for a moment, her mind traveling back to the last time she got ready to meet a boyfriend's family. She didn't linger there, but it did bring fond memories back to her. She tilted her head to the side and back, rubbing the tension away, and she moved out of the bathroom to put on her clothes and shoes.

She adjusted the strap to her black bralet, her fingers feeling the lace design, and she turned to collected her dress off the bed, her eyes moving to find Daryl once more watching her. She studied him as he closed the space between them, his work boots silent on the wood beneath them, and he wrapped his arm firmly around her waist, kissing her deeply.

It didn't go any further than that kiss, though he did linger, holding her soft curves and almost rocking them closer together. She smiled and closed her eyes for the briefest of seconds, and he stroked her cheek, placing another kiss to her lips, and he moved away to let her finish getting dressed.

"What was that?" Carol asked before he could slip away.

"Not sure." He wasn't lying. "You look nice."

"I'm not dressed yet."

"Still." He smiled softly and heard a knock on the door. "He's early?" For the first time in his life?

"Oh, no!" Carol hurriedly threw the dress on and scrambled to slip her feet into her sandles. This outfit was her favorite summer outfit, and it worked well indoors, so if he made any comments, she had plenty of retorts to toss back at him.

By the time Carol joined them, Merle was cracking open a bottle of wine, and Daryl was tossing whiskey stones into a single cup. She knotted her fingers together as Daryl poured a drink and Merle poured two, and Daryl handed the cup over to Merle. Merle gestured to the two wine glasses, and he tipped his cup back before turning to look at her.

"Merle, this is—"

"Apartment 24," he interrupted his brother. "The gay ones."

"Umm, not quite." Carol looked at Daryl, and he walked around the island to grasp her waist. "Merle, this is my girlfriend, Carol."

Merle's lips pulled downward at the same time his brows rose, and he shrugged. "She swings both ways, eh?"

"Merle," Daryl hissed.

"It's okay," Carol assured him. "No, actually, Tara and I are just good friends. We aren't...lovers or anything. I just...didn't know what else to say." Had she been the one to lie? Or had it been Tara herself? Oh, well.

"You aren't the first to be repulsed by me. You are the first to be "gay" then come back to be datin' my baby brother, though." He chuckled. "Kinda funny."

Carol smiled, somewhat forced, not sure where he truly stood with all of this. "Uh, yeah, about that..."

Merle commented. "You like 'em sweet, don't you?"

"I..." Carol wasn't sure what to say.

"He's always been the sweet one—my baby brother." Merle sauntered over to her and looked her over. "You didn't have to do all this for little ol' me."

"I wanted to." Carol relaxed her smile. "As an apology for my lie. I want us to start over. You are the older brother of my boyfriend, so I want us to at least get along. I don't expect us to be best friends, but...mutual understanding and maybe respect would be nice."

He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, and Carol could see Bri in that expression. "No."

"Merle, come on," Daryl argued.

"No." He finished his drink and spun around on his heel to leave.

"Merle!" Daryl moved from her side to grab him, but Carol caught his arm. "He ain't gonna disrepect you like that."

"It's okay. I don't need him to like me."

"I need him to know you ain't just passin' through, and he isn't gonna treat you like that." At the fervent look in his eyes, she released his arm and let him go. "Merle!"

He stopped by the door. "What?"

"I get that you're pissed at her lying, but we're together now, so get over it. She made dinner for all of us, and she wanted to meet you. Can you just for once do something for me? Please?" He searched his eyes. "This isn't just one meal. She's in my life, and I want her to stay, all right? So you better make peace with your shit and...try and make it work."

He looked back at Carol then to his brother. "It's Christmas, little brother. The last thing you need here is me. We'll do wings at Jones' another night, but spend this stupid day with her. Especially if she ain't goin' nowhere."

He blinked. "Merle..."

"Merry Christmas." He lifted his glass and departed without another word.

Carol stepped forward. "It's all right if it's just us. I'm sure... I mean, I don't..." She sighed. "I'm sorry."

Daryl faced her. "You're sorry?"

"It's my fault. I lied to him. I hurt him. I...shouldn't have lied that day. This is my karma for that lie, isn't it?"

He shook his head. "He wants to meet you, but not tonight. He...actually likes you 'cause he wants you to come get wings at Jones'."

"He did?" Her eyes brightened. "But wait, why not tonight?"

"He just said it's Christmas, and that we oughta be here alone." He closed the space between them.

She wrapped her arms around his shoulder and smiled softly. "He's not wrong."

"So...you wanna spend tonight with me?"

"Do you even have to ask?" She lowered a hand to his chest. "Of course."

"Er...merry Christmas?" He gave it his best try.

She giggled. "Merry Christmas, Daryl." She leaned up and kissed him.

– – –

It was 9 am when the plane landed, Rosita was waiting in the airport for that precious face that melted her heart, and she had to push up on the tips of her toes to see over the crowd of people. She was tempted to whip out her weapon and just scream "Crazy chick with a gun!" to get them to move, but she would be tackled by airport security in a hot second, and then she'd have to explain this to Boss and all the higher ups. It'd be embarrassing, and not to mention she would have to reveal her relationship with Tara. Oof, she needed to be ready to do that regardless, but Jesus in Heaven, it was...like sucking all the air out of the room.

Tara appeared suddenly, beaming at her widely and hurrying over to greet her. Rosita returned her smile and threw her arms around her the moment she was in reach. Tara let go of her luggage and wrapped her arms around her tightly, burying her face in the soft fur of her winter coat. She breathed in the scents of home and all of her tension from that long ass flight melted away. She couldn't wait to get home and just be with her. There was nothing else that sounded as good.

Rosita pulled back, cupping her cheeks and kissing her deeply. The lights and the people and the location around the two dimmed away until it seemed to be only them, and Rosita parted her lips, her tongue instantly making contact with Tara's gum. She didn't pull away or retract her tongue. She wanted to...make up for not being able to kiss her for a week, so gum be damned. It was a good flavor. Very minty, but not too strong. It flavored their kiss.

"Hey." Tara broke the kiss when someone kicked her duffel bag and jolted her back into reality. "Wrong place."

"I don't think it is." She smiled at her. "I miss you."

"I missed you, too." She threaded her fingers through Rosita's soft raven curls, feeling the hair product against her fingertips. "You did your hair for me?"

"Maybe." She smirked. "I thought we could have lunch at a public place like a normal couple, no takeout, no crummy apartment. I know you had a long flight, and you might just wanna shower and crash, but I was really hoping we could—"

"I love to," Tara gently interrupted her, kissing her once lightly. "I'm starved. Plane food is gross."

She beamed and swiped her bag. "C'mon. We have until five then Boss is treating us all to a holiday meal."

"There's a lot we can do till four." She laced her fingers through Rosita's as they fell into step with each other.

"I have a lot planned." Rosita bit her bottom lip. "Is that okay?"

"It's more than okay." Tara grinned. "I...I'm game for anything with you."

"C'mon." She guided her out of the crowd and towards the doors.

––

Carol rubbed her eye with the palm of her hand, stumbling out into the hallway at the sound of knocking on her door. She had spent the night at Daryl's and slipped out at ten. She had to shower and use her own shampoo and conditioner. She couldn't handle his two-in-one shit anymore. It butchered her hair, and it did that just fine on its own. It did not need his help. She left a note for him and planned to have dinner with him tonight. After their holiday together and the days that followed, it felt...okay to spend the night or to just slip out. It was weirdly normal. Comfortable, even, to just be at his place or to have him here. She was getting used to having him around. Maybe it was...time to have him around her friends. She was glad she asked him to Stillman's party.

She pulled the door open and smacked a hand over her nose at the sight before her, cringing at the smell. Shane in all his morning drinking glory stood in her doorway. He looked like a mess. He looked like he'd gotten into drunk a week ago and simply continued drinking to avoid the hangover then got into a bar fight and possibly tried to fight the bar itself. He looked like utter shit, and he his hair and face were a mess. It was a miracle he could even stand before her. It was probably why he was leaning against the frame of her door.

 _Oh, boy, this wasn't going to be fun._ She lowered her hand. "What the hell happened to you, Shane?"

"I'm not sure," he slurred. "I... I just found myself here."

"Oh, God."

"Here, come inside." She helped him through the door and closed it behind him. "I'll call you a cab." She swiped her phone off the counter and called him a cab on her way to the kitchen. She had the number saved in her phone due to needing to escape her house as a teenager, and she kept it saved for idiots at bars that she talked to now and then. She wanted them to get home safe, like the huge idiot in her living room.

She set her phone on the table and prepared a pot of coffee, running a hand through her hair and yawning loudly. She didn't want to know what had happened to him. She wanted him to get home safely and sleep this out. She didn't want an explanation. She didn't want him to cry on her shoulder. She wanted him out of her life. He was the one who left first and now he was trying to cement himself permanently in her life? She couldn't comprehend that line of thinking, but she wasn't going to try to. They were through, and he needed to move on. She hoped this coming year brought him peace, comfort. A new girlfriend, perhaps even someone who meant as much to her as Daryl did. Maybe. He didn't really deserve to get so lucky right off the bat.

"Why'd you leave?" Shane stumbled into the kitchen, slamming into the wall.

"I...just came to make coffee." She frowned at him. "You're a mess. I don't want to know why, but I do need some slim chance of getting my deposit back, so sit." She walked over to him to guide him over to the chairs, but he grabbed her wrists instead. "Shane..."

"You left," he whined. "Why did you do that? Carol, that really hurt me."

She tried not to lose her cool, but he was holding unreasonably tight to her wrists. "I told you why I left, Shane."

"Not that night. You went to _him_ , didn't you?" He pushed her backwards, and she nearly lost her footing. "You shouldn't have gone to him. He doesn't love you like I do. He won't. He doesn't get you, Carol. He never can."

"I don't think that's for you to decide." She twisted her wrists in an attempt to loosen his grip, but he only clamped down harder. "Okay, let go of me."

"I did that once, and I won't do that again." He backed her up against the counter, and she struggled now. "I won't let him take you from me."

"He can't take me from you," Carol argued. "I'm not yours to be taken! Let go."

"You are mine, Carol. I...made you feel... I know that if I could just make you see..." He leaned down to kiss her, and she stomped down on his feet, but he was wearing his work boots and couldn't feel her stomps. "What we had...was forever." He let go of her wrists to wrap his arms around her waist and hoist her up. She gasped, gripping his shoulders, and her butt landed on the counter, her thighs on either side of his waist.

"Do you remember?" he whispered. "What we used to do on this counter? Or on that table? We...we made a mess of breakfast more than once."

"That's over. It's in the past."

Tears filled his eyes. "We...we used to—"

"Yeah, Shane, "used to". We used to do a lot of things, but we don't anymore. It's all past tense, because it's in the past. It's over—really and truly over. Okay? I...I love someone else, and that's not going to change. And I'm sick of trying to explain this to you. You need to accept it."

He whined. "But—but you're everything, Carol." His face crumbled as he broke down. "I love you so much. What...what am I supposed to do with that? Tell me. Tell me, because I don't know. I don't know, and I can't take the hurt anymore. I just can't."

"Shane..."

"You're the only thing I ever got right..." He reached up and cupped her cheek. "The only thing."

"I'm not the only thing." She set her hand over his. "You...you're a good cop, Shane. You're a good nephew. You can be a good man. It takes time. Healing takes time, and some just heal faster. That's okay, and it doesn't mean something's wrong with you. It just means you need more time."

"I don't want time. I just want you."

"But you know you can't have me...right?"

He dropped his hand and shuddered, dropping his head in her lap and wailing.

"Oh, God." She'd forgotten he was an emotional drunk. Geez. "Shane." She set a hand on his shoulder and patted it, sucking in air and looking over at the coffee pot to see if it was almost done. She could pour herself a cup while he cried. Was that too rude? More or less rude than showing up at someone's house shitfaced? Ehh. She wasn't looking for brownie points.

He lifted his head and snuffled. "You smell nice."

"Nope." She pulled her legs in, shifting them to one side and crossing them. "You need to get sober."

"Do you still use that mango body wash?"

"Shane." She locked her eyes in his. "Go home. That cab will be here in five minutes."

"Couldn't I just crash here?"

"That's not appropriate."

"I used to do it all the time when we were friends."

"But we're not friends, and I don't feel comfortable with you "crashing here"."

"You mean your boy toy," he muttered.

"No, I mean me. I don't want my ex-lover here when I'm about to change and get ready to go out. I'm not okay with that, and while his opinion doesn't matter in my apartment, you're right. Daryl wouldn't want you here either."

"Is he really better than me?"

"I don't know who's better than who," Carol told him, "but I do know he's better for me, and that's what matters."

"I'm gonna hurl."

"So will I if you continue to stink up my kitchen." She slid off the counter. "This is the last time. Don't drop by. Don't talk to me in public unless it has to do with work. Don't think it's okay to pick me up and set me anywhere, all right? This is my body, and you have no right to it anymore."

"All right, fine. I'll try."

"Try hard."

He had a cup of coffee in the kitchen and Carol sat in the living room, checking her messages to find one from Tara. She laughed happily at the cute voicemail her roommate left her, beaming and texting her to let her know she couldn't wait to see her. She ignored Shane looking in on her, and she almost jumped up in the air when her phone notified her that the cab was outside. She accepted his empty mug and walked him to the door, not saying goodbye as she began to close the door.

"Could I be a backup plan?" Shane offered.

"Do you really want to be something as pathetic and desperate as a backup plan?" She arched a brow. "And who says I need one?"

"What, you think farmer boy is it for you?"

"I don't think," she corrected. "I feel it, and...it feels damn good, so I know it must be right. To fall in love so fast, it'd have to be right." She giggled, covering her smile with her fingertips.

Shane gulped. "Love?"

"Yeah." She gripped the door. "Love. I love him, and I'm going to tell him. I have to get ready, so get home safe, okay?" She closed the door before he could speak.

"Carol." He was met with a shut door and sighed. "Good luck..."

––

Daryl looked in on Bri and Amy, who had been crashing at his place for the last few days following Christmas, and he smiled around his cup of coffee. He should have felt awkward, given what happened with him and Carol last night—and every night this week—but he didn't. He was just...jolly. He hated the word, but damn, he was. He wasn't one for being a bottom, but shit, he'd bottom with Carol every night if she did that thing with her hips.

"Daryl?" Amy groggily inquired at the figure in the doorway.

"Coffee's made. You wanted me to wake you up." He kept his voice low. "Figured we could talk now." He headed back to the kitchen.

"Hmm. Right." She rolled out of bed and pulled down her night shorts. Gathering her hair up into a ponytail, she ambled out of her bedroom and down to the kitchen. She was all smiles at the sight of her freshly prepared coffee all ready for her, light and sweet like she loved it. She sat on a stool at the island and sipped her deliciously creamy and sweet coffee. "I'd seriously marry you for the coffee alone."

He chuckled. "It's...just memory."

"Not even Andrea can make my coffee just right." Or Merle, she thought to herself, setting the cup down. "Are you sure we aren't soul mates, Dixon?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Also sure it takes more than coffee to determine a soul mate."

She laughed. "I'm kidding. I love you like a little brother."

"We're about the same age."

"Yeah, but I did your older brother, so I see you like a little sibling."

He tapped his thumb against his cup and met her eyes. "Why have you been staying over here, Amy? Honest answer. It's been nice to have Bri to hang out with, but...why? Merle's been home a lot lately. It's risky."

"I—I know it is, and I'm sorry to be a burden to you. I never meant to be, but...you're the only person I can turn to. You have the spare bedroom and no one else in your life. It just felt...easier to come to you to stay with for a while."

"I have someone in my life," he reminded her. "Carol."

"Yeah, but she doesn't live here."

"See my bathroom and tell me that," he muttered against his cup before he drank.

"It's complicated with me and Bri right now."

"Because of Randall?" he assumed. "And what Bri told me on Christmas."

"Okay, maybe it's not complicated, but I'm not ready to face him yet. He...was deeply rooted in our lives. It was my mistake, and I'm trying to figure out how to fix it without moving entirely and changing Bri's schools. I need a safe place to figure my shit out, and that's you."

"Or...it's Merle," Daryl commented, eyeing her. "You know he's across the hall, and he's always been a distraction when you needed one."

"That's not why I'm here." She turned red. "I meant all that I said. My daughter could have been molested, and you make this about Merle?"

"I'm not makin' it about anyone but you. If he did something, you need to find out."

"I've talked to her! She assures me nothing happened, and I have to trust her. It's not like I can ask him. I can't dig into his brain or hers, so I have to go by her word. If you want to try, be my guest. I have to figure out how I'm going to keep him out of my life now. He has keys to my apartment, access to Bri at school and to me at work. He...he knows the pin to my debit card. He could screw me over, Daryl."

He lowered his eyes. "You're welcome here as long as you need, and I'm here for you. Carol is, too. I'm sure she could help you."

"Thanks, bro, but I gotta figure this out myself." She smiled weakly. "Adulting and all that jazz."

"Adults can ask other adults for help. It's a part of...adulting."

"I will if I need it. I just have to try and work it out for myself for a time."

"All right." He spotted Bri nearing. "I'm gonna make pancakes. You hungry?"

"Not really." She smiled sweetly at her daughter. "But I bet you're just starving after your night."

He tried not to blush, but he couldn't keep it off his cheeks. He turned his back to them to get the eggs and pancake mixture.

"Why?" Brianna pulled herself up onto a stool. "Did you not eat last night? That's not healthy! You have to eat."

"Oh, I'm sure he ate plenty," Amy teased, seeing his neck redden. "He just...burned all that energy...working out. He was breathless in the kitchen at one in the morning."

"I didn't hear anything." Bri rubbed her eye. "Did you do something quiet? Like push ups?"

"Yeah, a hundred of 'em," he replied, wanting this conversation to be over. He hated when Amy made inappropriate remarks in front of Bri and had her playing along to a conversation she didn't understand at all.

"Wow! You must be super sore. I can only do about fifteen before I'm pooped."

"Yeah, you must have great endurance," Amy added.

"Can we talk about something else?" He whisked with vigor to keep from turning into a tomato. "Do you want fruit in these pancakes? Chocolate chips?"

"Yes!" Brianna beamed. "Blueberries and chocolate chips!"

Amy chuckled. "Shh, inside voice and manners."

"Oh, sorry." She blushed and tried again. "Blueberriess and chocolate chips, please."

"Coming right up for you, Bri." He sent her a smirk, and she giggled. "You want some, Amy?"

"Yes, please." She cupped her coffee mug. "And thank you...so much."

He smiled. "You're doin' the dishes."

"Gladly so." She lifted her cup and drank deeply, using this time to...ponder her situation. Ponder and stress and then take that stress to eat pancakes. It was her only plan right now. She'd have to talk to Andrea. She needed...her big sister to help her since Daryl was already helping her in a different way. She'd lean on both of them and make it up later. And she _would_ make it up to them.

– – –

"Mm, I hadn't asked how your trip was." Rosita swallowed water from her glass. "I mean, asked for details instead of an overview. How was it? Did you guys get to spend a lot of time together?"

"Yeah, it was awesome." Tara cut into her omelette as she spoke. "Lilly took the entire week off to be at home, and it as just like old times. We played games and ate popcorn. We stayed up late and watched scary movies. We spent the first two days just talking. We...talked about everything, caught up on all the missed years, and I felt right at home again, like no time had passed. I needed it more than I thought I did."

"That's awesome." Rosita grinned at her.

"We went shopping, and I now have a million different types of lotions. I don't use perfume, so Lilly went nuts on the lotion. That, and she collects coupons now. I always thought that was super lame, but dude, she saved an ass ton." She met her eyes. "That's how you adult. She taught me how to adult, Rosita."

She laughed. "Good. Teach me, so I can stop spending hundreds on wine weekly."

"I wouldn't help you buy wine. Dinners, maybe, so we can cook at your place more often, but no wine."

"Okay." She reached over and set her hand over Tara's. "I'll settle for that."

"How was your Christmas?" Tara freed her thumb to stroke the length of Rosita's thumb.

"Filled with loads of family. It was great to see them all, and I got to spend time with Andrea. I...I used to think Caesar was a fool for marrying her. I thought he just wanted an instant family, because he has the patience level of a toddler, but...after spending time with her and with them, I was wrong. It's more than anything I could comprehend prior to our conversations. They're in love, and it's real. It's working, and they're...like a real-life happy marriage with no strings. I thought that kind of thing didn't happen to actual people."

"Your parents," Tara reminded her.

"They fell in love in a different time." Rosita shook her head. "It's not the same."

"If you say so." Tara smirked, feeling hope blooming in her chest. "Anything else happen?"

"Just...some family stuff. Not mine, but..sort of mine. It's complicated, and not for me to talk about, so just forget I said anything."

"O...kay." Tara waved it off. "Do you have any plans for New Years Day?"

"Not unless we have a murder, which we probably will, so...maybe."

"Spend it with me if we don't get caught up in work."

"I'd like that." She smiled widely. "Very much. I...even have a resolution I can announce."

"Me, too." Tara returned her smile.

They continued to talk about their Christmases and how their time with family was, both remembering little details that weren't important to the story, but they meant a lot. Tara listened with open ears to every single word that came out of Rosita's mouth, and Rosita did the same, getting lost in the story. She was happy to hear about Tara's family, and she couldn't wait for the day she got to meet them as...more than Tara's coworker and friend.

"Do you think you'll see them again?" Rosita crossed her legs under the table, thanking the waiter with words and a smile and almost drooling over the slice of cheesecake he left in her plate's wake. Tara had picked it for her since Rosita wanted to change up her order for once, and it looked like a little slice of pleasure. Her fork broke through the caramel and chocolate marbled glaze over top, gliding through the smooth and freshly made cream cheese base and crunching through the firm gram cracker crust. It was a fresh slice of give me the whole damn pie.

"I don't know." Tara picked up her fork and silently asked to test Rosita's dessert, thanking her when she agreed, though noting the slight narrow of her eye. "I hope so."

"Maybe Phillip will go on another business trip."

"Or maybe Lilly will leave him," Tara muttered, bringing the fork to her mouth.

"If we have to, we can fly them out here. I mean, I have a spare bedroom. They could stay there. If they wanted."

Tara grinned at her. "You'd do that?"

"They're your family. Of course I'd do that."

"That's so thoughtful. I... I don't know if I can ever take you up on that offer, but thank you so much. It really means the world to me."

"I know." Rosita smiled at her. "Just let me know. My room's always open."

They enjoyed their shared dessert, Rosita ordered a couple slices to-go, and they left. They went to Rosita's apartment, Tara crumbled onto the couch, and Rosita put her leftovers away. She came to find Tara burying her face in a throw pillow, and she laughed, asking what she was doing.

"I'm just glad to be home." She rolled onto her side. "I love my family and everything, but it's good to be home. I missed home."

"But...technically, you're not home yet." Rosita picked up her bag and moved it out of the way.

"I've been home," Tara corrected in a tender whisper, "since you picked me up at the airport."

Rosita flushed and stammered. "D—don't let Carol hear you say that."

"No promises."

"We have to meet Boss in a few hours, so why don't you try and nap? You look exhausted."

"I need a shower first." She hopped up. "Is that okay?"

"You don't need to ask you use my shower." Rosita sauntered over to her. "Unless you want me to join you."

Tara smirked. "Do you?"

"I've have a week of nothing but family hugs and kisses and cheek pinches." She made a pitiful face like a wounded puppy. "I'm in desperate need for affection."

"Oh, I bet you're on the verge of death."

"Probably. I haven't gone this long without any since college." She laughed, breaking the charade. "Besides...you kinda owe me."

"How do I owe you?"

"Well, let me inform you of a tradition I keep: Christmas sex."

Tara laughed now. "What? This is literally the first time I've even heard of this supposed tradition."

"Well, it's this little thing that ensures I have an epic following year."

"Shouldn't that be New Years Eve sex?"

"No, because this sex has to be so good, it lasts till New Years." She placed her hands on her hips and shrugged her shoulders. "Are you up for the task?"

"Are you serious right now?"

"Deathly." She was trying not to smile.

"Okay, but I need to cut my fingernails."

"Wait, what...?"

"Well, fingernails tend to grow over a week of no action." She slipped her arms through the spaces Rosita's arms and yanked Rosita's smack against her. "And if we're going for epic sex then I'll definitely need my hands." She smirked devilishly at her and crushed her mouth against Rosita's. She could tell Rosita was joking about the sex, but Tara was ready. It had been a long week and after talking to Lilly about how she felt, she wanted to be as close to Rosita as she could be in every way...

––

Boss wasn't surprised when his detectives gradually streamed in through the restaurant doors at various times and not a single one entering at the time he'd given. Had he told them it was a work meeting, they would all be there on time and guns ready, but he didn't want that. Christmas had passed peacefully, and he wanted to celebrate that and this bit of good news he'd gotten. They would be cheering after he told them. He damn near cheered when he heard it. To say it was overdue was an understatement.

Rosita and Tara finally arrived half an hour late, they apologized and found the only seats left, and Carol shook her head at Tara, who stuck her tongue out at Carol.

"I don't know where that's been, but I do know I don't want it." Carol teasingly smirked at her, drinking from her glass of water.

"Yeah, you're right; you wouldn't want it."

"Now that everyone has decided to show up," Boss announced, "I have some news for you all."

"Is it news that you'll be paying for dinner?" Glenn pulled out a charming smile. "Because have a baby isn't cheap, and neither were our Christmas travels."

"The meal is on the house," Boss informed them. "That doesn't mean go happy with the selection. It's a favor from the owner. We go back."

"Thank God."

"Anyway," Boss proceeded with the news, "as you know the office is locked."

"It is?" Carol frowned. "Why?"

"Okay, well, the office is locked," Boss tried again, "due to an increase in our budget."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Aaron held a hand up. "You mean those actually happen? I thought they were a myth."

Boss chuckled.

"My computer is literally the first computer to ever be made," Glenn commented. "It still has a green screen. I can't even use it most of the time." That's why he'd claimed the tablet.

"What does this increase include?" Carol inquired.

"They're updating our computers, our databases are also undergoing its monthly update, and we'll be getting a new projector TV thing. I'm not sure what the name of it is, but it's new and advanced. It was donated to us. It's not a part of the increase."

"Wow." Glenn's eyes widened. "New tech. I may be in heaven right now."

"Could we get a new coffee maker?" Rosita pleaded. "I can't swallow the poison over my new computer."

"No, they're not supplying a new coffee maker." Boss felt their groans in his heart. "But I'm pitching in with all of you to help buy a new one. I already have one on the way. It's a nice machine, reliable, and it actually saves on water and power consumption. It'll be here tomorrow, and I'll expect your share tomorrow as well. It wasn't costly, but I need to survive till my next check."

"You're awesome, Boss." Tara wanted to kiss him. No more evil coffee. That was a gift. God bless us everyone, hot damn!

"Don't thank me. Thank the investor. We'll be sending him a thank you card."

"Just like school." Rosita straightened her spine. "Who do we make it out to?"

"It's in the office. I'll have you fill it out tomorrow. Tonight is for celebrating our good success this past year and this increase." Boss lifted his glass, and his team followed suit. "You are the best team any captain could ask for. You are dedicated and loyal and relentless. I am proud to stand by you and lead you through whatever may come. You are the soul of this city, and don't let anyone else tell you differently."

"We, Boss," Aaron corrected. _"We're_ the soul of this city."

He smiled. "Here's to my team. May we continue to serve this city and each other well until that golden day of retirement!"

"Here, here!"

– – –

The increase might as well have been a full-on remodel. The entire office looked fresh as hell. The computers were slick and smooth and black, a new resting on each desk with the manufacture code stickers still visible and fresh off the print. The screens hadn't been touched been stained by the natural oils of human fingers, and the keyboards were like the cheesecake Rosita had eaten. They were so new it almost hurt to touch them and slowly wear down the newly printed numbers and letters. It was all so beautiful, the best Christmas gift the office could have ever gotten.

And ooh was that new coffee machine sexy. It had three—yes, three—different pots that perfectly brewed three different types of coffee—regular, decaffeinated, and dark roast. Nothing was burnt. Nothing tasted burnt or oily or like death. It was always smooth and robust and warmed the entire body. Man, that coffee ran through you and woke up your body like you were millionaire who got served their favorite breakfast every morning on a gold platter and spent the day chilling at a spa. It was amazing, and it had an espresso maker on the side. Praise the coffee lords. They had found nirvana, and it was...epic and gorgeous, and everyone pretty much went noodle limp in their seat from delight. Ooh, mornings just got so much better.

Boss had to kick them out of the office it was so bad, and that's where they were now. Glenn and Aaron went to catch some game at Glenn's, Carol and Tyreese were chatting about their latest case on the way out, and Tara hung back to wait for Rosita.

"Is it annoying to keep gushing over the equipment?" Rosita wanted to hug her desktop and kiss it, but she didn't want to leave any marks on its virgin surface. "I can't help it. It's so nice to have a computer that doesn't overheat or crash or freeze every two seconds. Ugh, I can finally breathe in our office now. It's amazing."

"It really is."

"And that coffee makers? I think it's better than sex."

Her brows shot up, and she looked around before saying, "Better than sex we had last night?"

She pursed her lips to compare the two.

"Oh, my God, Rosita."

"I'm kidding!" She wrapped her arms around her neck. "Nothing is better than I have with you. I promise."

Tara weaved her fingers through Rosita's hair, Rosita purred at the feel of her stroking her hair, and Tara felt her heart burst. "I love you." She kissed her forehead.

Rosita blinked and stared at her. "What did you just say?"

"I said I love you." An ardent smile crossed her lips, and she couldn't contain her love for this woman any longer. "I'm in love with you."

Rosita stepped back and shook her head, her mouth opening and closing as she struggled to come up with words—any words—to say back to her. She could only feel her heart...breaking, and her blood went cold with humiliation and agony. She felt sick and dizzy, and her eyes filled with tears at the hot sting of betrayal and disappointment that came with those words. They were awful, awful words. Cruel and mocking. She couldn't be there with those words. She couldn't be in the same room where they entered the air. It was too familiar. It was too painful. It reeked of abandonment and tears, and her mouth went sour from the taste of it. She couldn't do it. Her tongue stuck to her mouth, swollen shut from the sourness those words evoked, and she couldn't be there.

"I—I'm sorry." She backed up. "No. No, you can't. We can't."

"Rosita..." It was a heartbroken sound, and tears filled her eyes.

"Please, don't love me." She covered her mouth at the anguish. "Don't look at me like that, Tara. Don't!"

"Rosita..." She tried to touch her, to reach out to her and calm her fears, reassure her that this love was good. It wouldn't hurt her, but Rosita jerked away from her touch.

"I can't!" She disregarded her belongings on her desk and fled the bullpen. She ran out onto the street, passing her car and running in no real direction. She had to keep running. She had to get away. If she kept moving, the past wouldn't get her. She would be okay. Her heart would be okay. She wouldn't have to relive it all. Her heart would be safe. It would be okay if she just kept _running_...

In the bullpen Tara stood with her hands balled to fists at her sides, and her hands lost strength. They uncurled and lifted to her face as she tried to pat on her poker face to walk out of here with some shred of dignity. She had to be strong. She had to walk out of here like nothing was wrong and face the world. Face Rosita. She wouldn't let her run away. She couldn't just let her run away...

Her poker face failed as hot tears rolled down her face, and she buried her face there in her palms.

"Hey, Tara, have you seen my wallet?" Carol walked into the bullpen and dropped her bag on the floor. "Tara!" She hurried to her side. "What happened?"

She shook her head, and Carol wrapped her arms around her. However the compassion and love Carol's arms tried to jolt into her body didn't make it through sharp edges of a her crumbling heart.


	28. Blocked Number

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.**_

– – –

It was a stunning evening at Jones' pub. It was the first "fancy" party of the new year. All of Philly's finest were there, boozing and dancing and tossing around war stories. There were endless drinks and snacks laid across the bar. There were laughs for miles and not a single tear in sight. It was a lovely evening, truly, one for the books.

It was January 8th 2018, fresh snow covered the ground outside the tavern, and inside all the cops and detectives were there to celebrate the retirement of John Stillman and Will Jeffries from the Cold Case Unit and to praise Lilly Rush for her promotion to lieutenant of the unit. Her first duty was finding fresh blood to replace Will, but that was for a new morning, not tonight. It was a new year with a new team, and everyone was there to celebrate that.

Tara stood in her best clothes in the corner of the room, working on her third beer, watching the couples as she drowned her own misery in that brown bottle. She tried not to be down, but after the year she'd had, she couldn't help it. She'd been an idiot, and she wanted to take it back. She wanted to take it all back, but she couldn't. It'd happened. It was done, carved into a stone that was thrown the large display window of her life, and now there was glass fucking everywhere.

Carol kept checking her phone, her heart fluttering nervously every single time the door opened, and she tried to relax. It was a huge night for her fellow detectives, and for her relationship with Daryl. They had spent Christmas together, and it'd been perfect. She knew what her feelings were, and she wanted her friends to meet him. She was so excited. He was a little late, hence her fluttering heart, but he'd be here. She just wished it was sooner rather than later. She couldn't keep the surprise to herself for much longer.

Aaron and Eric were at a table in the back of the bar, discussing surrogacy options. They had Beth, but they had to work out how it would work. She didn't live in this state, so they would have to either let her stay with them or she'd stay with Glenn and Maggie. They were Face-timing her now to work out those details. She was eager to start the process, and she would rather be close by the parents in case anything happened. She doubted anything would, but she wanted them near for any bad news and all the good news. All the doctor appointments, the sonograms and hearing the heart beat. She wanted them to be with her to see this baby grow. It was their first child, after all, and all the little moments mattered.

Glenn led Maggie onto the dance floor, spinning her around so she gently bumped into him, chuckling softly at his savvy and wrapping her arm around his shoulder. They had officially settled into their home. They were both so excited to be taking this step in their marriage and in their lives. They had spent most of their time discussing what to do with that backyard. It was perfect for a grill and swing set, and there space for them to grow a garden. As parents, as employees, as lovers, as best friends, as soul mates. As a family. They could grow there, set up roots there, and that was such a blessing. They couldn't wait to have all of their friends and family over for the housewarming party, but that was for another day. Tonight was to Stillman and Jeffries and to Rush, of course. Er, Rush-Valens.

Boss and "Boss" were at the bar with Jeffries and Vera, exchanging humiliating stories of their rookies days, busting out laughs over potato wedges and mugs of cold beer. Tyreese couldn't believe his buddy Stillman had finally thrown in the towel and handed it over to Rush. He was impressed and proud. Lilly would be a fine lieutenant, and he couldn't wait to work with her should their cases cross. He'd miss his friend, but life went on. Perhaps next year they'd be at his retirement party. Oof, damn, that thought made him feel old.

Tara set the half finished beer down before it got sad and her eyes fell on the lucky cop couples once more. She was a little bitter, but they were so damn happy, her bitterness died down to mild jealousy and massive, crushing loneliness. She wasn't going to touch her bleeding heart.

Lilly and Scotty, the original power couple of PPD, were on point tonight, ladies and gents. Everyone was in formal wear for Boss (Stillman) and Jeffries, and boy, did they deck out to the nines. Lilly was glowing in her eggplant spaghetti strapped, a-line silhouette gown, her hair down over her shoulders like a golden veil, and her smile only made her even more radiant. The "Ice Queen" had melted in the arms of her husband, and it made Tara's heart ache.

Scotty had on a tux, very form-fitting, very handsome, his tie matching her dress like they were fucknig prom, and he was looking at her like she was the only woman in the entire world. He caressed her cheek with his thumb, tilting her head to kiss her tenderly, whispering beautiful nothings into her ear, bringing joyful laughter from her lips and vice versa. It was like watching them on their wedding day, only that was at city hall, and only their unit were invited. Mostly because they crashed it, but do what you gotta do—and then tell the entire force, because everyone knew about Rush and Valens' wedding day. Especially the blowout after party the force threw them for trying to hide their engagement and wedding. It was then that Glenn and Maggie got engaged, and Lilly seemed thrilled to have the spotlight off her and Scotty. She made their escape then, but Glenn and Mags were engaged, so the party shifted to them, so it was good. It was fun.

Not like this. Tara was picking out boring details to try and focus on anything other than her spewing heart. She couldn't take much more of this. She was about to leave and find her. She couldn't stand here in all this joy and...be happy. She was suffering, and she knew the woman she loved—yeah, that's right, the woman she fucking loved—was suffering too. She needed to find her and explain everything. And for fuck's sake hold onto her, because this was it. She knew it. She felt it. She just had to fix it. And honestly, if Scotty kissed Lilly one more time, or if Glenn made Maggie laugh and look at him like he was the damn night sky one more time, she would snap.

"Hey, you look depressed." Carol leaned against the wall beside her friend. "Is it the soul mate crew over there?"

"Yep." Lucky fuckers. "How about you? You look stressed out."

"I'm okay. It's a surprise." She shrugged and tried to smile. "I think if I see them be any cuter, I'm throwing that retirement cake on them."

"I'll help. And whatever doesn't end up on them or the floor, we eat."

"I'll drink to that." Carol polished off her wine and set the cup by Tara's bottle. "They make it look so easy. I know it's not, but damn."

"Why are you talking?" Tara's brows furrowed, as those...er, four shots kicked in. "You have a relationship. Daryl is half in love with you, I swear."

"If he were half in love with me, wouldn't he be here by now?" Carol muttered it, but of course Tara heard.

"We finally get to meet the guy, and he doesn't show? I'mma kick his ass. What's his address?" She was serious.

"Is this where it ends?" Carol peered at Tara. "I mean...maybe I'm just not the woman men want to hang onto."

"Carol, if you swung my way," Tara assured her, "we'd probably be married and arguing over who didn't buy tampons while our kids ran buck wild around our shitty apartment."

"We do that now, and I said "men". I don't need jokes, Tara. I'm really bummed out enough."

Tara nudged her. "C'mere."

"What? No, I don't want to dance."

Tara spun around to be in front of Carol, gave a wide and old fashioned bow and held her hand out. "My lovely lady."

"You're embarrassing."

"Then allow me this dance," she continued in a phony posh voice.

"Only if you _stop,"_ Carol emphasized, smiling for the first time in the hour.

"As you wish." She accepted Carol's hand with a wink, and Carol rolled her eyes and let out a wheezy laugh. Tara pulled her onto the dance floor and grasped her other hand. "And don't worry about any funny business."

"I won't. You're taken." She set her hand on Tara's shoulder, meeting her best friend's surprised eyes. "Did you really think I didn't know?Me, your roommate and best friend in the entire world? C'mon, Tara, seriously?"

"I was kind of hoping," she stated flatly.

"Well, I'm sorry to burst that bubble, but I know."

"It was that night...you found me in the bullpen crying, wasn't it?"

"Not quite."

"Then when?" she demanded, trying to think of any other clues they accidentally dropped.

"I knew the morning after you two first slept together. The night we all went out drinking?" Carol bobbed her head. "When I was buying Plan B, I remembered bits and pieces of that night. It didn't add up, and when I thought you two might have hooked up, I laughed myself nearly to death against the various lubes. Then you two fought, and it kind of made sense. And it was confirmed...when I saw you watching her. I don't remember what was going on, we might have just been chilling out in the office, but I remember the look in your eyes watching her and Boss were going over paperwork. You've only ever looked at one other person like that."

"Denise."

Carol nodded. "And you loved Denise—big time. I thought you and she were it, but I guess she was just...a path to you're actual it." She smiled softly. "And I approve."

Tara wanted to smile, but was slightly grumpy they all knew and didn't say anything! "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It wasn't for me to say anything about. It's your relationship. You wanted it private, so I respected that. Besides I think we all have enough on our plate without creating tension at work."

"Well...I don't know if there is anything to talk about or reveal to you guys anymore."

"What happened? You never told me what happened that night."

"A lot. A big, fat mess of a lot." She blew out a sigh. "I honestly don't know what I'm going to say or do to try and get her to open up to me again. I mean, that night, I felt her walls shoot up, Carol. And she ran away from me. Actually ran away like her hair was on fire, and... I don't know what to do about that. I mean, I know her better than those words, but they were true, and I couldn't keep them to myself anymore. I still can't, so how do I make this right?"

"Don't be so hard on yourself. You love her. As a friend, as family, perhaps even beyond that. You'll work it out. She just needs time to figure her part out. She's been through a lot relationship-wise, and as much as she pretends to not want things, she does want them. She may want them with you, and that's why she ran, because she realized just how much she wanted those things with you."

"I feel like I blew my chance, Carol."

"You two are perfect for each other," she informed her. "You're different enough to still have conflicts and conversations about it, and you fit together well. You can push and open up the part of her that still wants all those little and big relationship steps."

"You really think so?"

"I know so."

She smiled, feeling better. "I guess Daryl has made you less skeptic on relationships again."

Carol lowered her eyes.

"What?" Tara hated that look, especially on Carol. Daryl was rarely one to bring that look to her face, so what the fuck? "What is it? What did I miss?"

"I just... I don't know what Daryl and I are anymore. I don't know where we stand with each other. It's confusing, because...one moment I know he cares about me, but then he does this, and I'm not sure where I am with him in our relationship."

"Does this being what? He didn't show tonight?"

"Tonight was a huge step for us. He would meet you and Aaron and Glenn and Boss. He'd meet my family, and that's huge. I was ready to show this part of my life to him and share it with him after all this time, and...all he did was stand me up. He hasn't even returned my texts." She blew out a weak sigh. "I put too much stock in him caring about me, didn't I?"

"Don't say that. He probably got busy with work. Or maybe his brother pulled some shit, and he's running around trying to bail him out of it. He might not have had time to breathe, or let you know he'll talk to you later tonight. You can't assume it's you. Carol, he does care about you. You've said it, and I've seen the way you look when he drops you off after a date. You're half in love with him, might not want to admit it, but you are. You just have to be a little more optimistic."

"I'm trying."

"Try a little harder. Why don't you give him tonight then stop by his place tomorrow? Life happens, and it's shit. You just...have to...brace yourself and wait for the truth. Or seek it out, which is why you should talk to him tomorrow."

"Only if you talk to Rosita about how you feel about her."

"Hey now, I already chased her off once. I don't think I'm ready for round two."

"You never know."

"But I do. I'll just give her some space then talk to her. She has stuff to figure out, too."

"Abe really did give her a lot of false hope." Carol linked her hands behind Tara's neck. "I want to punch him for that, but I suppose it's a little of Rosita's fault, too. She locked all of that away, because of what went down between them. It seems extreme."

"I think Abe was just the first guy she saw a future with since PPD. Most guys run off when you flash a badge, but he didn't. He encouraged her. He...shared part of his life his wife couldn't touch with her. It was real to both of them, but it was wrong, and learning that this special person wasn't fully hers really cut deep. I mean, could you imagine that? You spent years with the man, and...then in a matter of moments it all crumbles down around you, and you have no clue who's standing in front of you? You don't know what made you so blind or why you ignored the warnings. She really was hard on herself after that, and she doesn't let up. I wish she would. She's just so... She's just so..."

"...damn stubborn," Carol finished for her friend.

"Exactly. Pigheaded and proud, but...I kinda love that about her."

"I love that Daryl's patient," Carol commented. "I thought...when he didn't show up at first that he was just nervous. That he wasn't ready just yet to meet them, but then I texted him, and he didn't text me back. I called him, but...still nothing. He seemed okay with it when we talked about, but I guess I was wrong. God, I'm an idiot." Tears rose in her eyes. "I forced him into this, and he wasn't ready, didn't I?"

"Carol, it's not too good to be true. You don't know his side of the story." She searched her eyes. "You can't let your anxiety win, sweetie. It sucks to not have answers—it really does—but you have to chin up. You'll talk to him tomorrow and get the truth. With the truth, you'll know how to react. Please don't beat yourself up over this. I hate to see you like this. Don't let Shane ruin Daryl."

"I'm not. Daryl's ruining Daryl."

Tara pulled her into a hug, and Carol dug her nails into her back. "It'll be just fine. You can love him and not lose him. He's one to stay, trust me. He's like a tree. He isn't going anywhere. He has roots down...in your garden."

She laughed weakly. "Shut up, you doofus."

"You laughed."

"Only cause you said it in a silly voice." She pulled away from her and snuffled.

"You know it."

She chuckled and wiped under her eye. "I'm worthless in relationships."

"Nah, you've just been screwed over a lot." She lightly punched her arm.

"Gee, thanks."

"What? It's true. We all have been screwed over." She glanced over at the sound of Maggie cheering. She'd just beaten Boss (Ty) in a match of darts, and she high-fived Glenn, smiling widely and kissing him in victory. Tara turned away to find Lilly and Scotty, who were now at the bar. Lilly was playing with the cherry stem to her soda, Scotty was whispering in her ear, and she was chuckling. She had a feeling they were already practicing for kid number three while two was still baking in the oven. Jesus. Not to mention if she looked left, she'd seen Eric and Aaron flirting it up over the pool table. "Save for these assholes."

Carol laughed again. "We're all screwed with love. They're just...I don't know. Screwing love?"

"They love screwing." She waggled her eyebrows.

"You're such a teenager!"

"No, I'm a pre-teen." She pursed her lips. "There's a difference."

"Yeah, and the fact that you know that says you should act your legal age."

"That's no fun at all."

"I'm not crying anymore, please stop." Carol smirked at her.

"I can't turn it off now. You're stuck with this." She poked her cheek. "Forever."

She lightly smacked her hand. "Keep it up, and you're not coming home with me."

Tara was about to retort when the doors to the bar flew open and in stumbled the one person nobody expected to see. Shane Walsh. He was dressed up nicely like the rest of them, but he was panting, like he'd been running, and he nearly collapsed onto the floor. Carol went to his side cautiously, Tara following after her, and when he went down, Carol went with him. He had an arm around her shoulders, her arm around his back, and he sputtered.

There was little point when every phone in the room buzzed, dinged, hummed—whatever noise they had attached to their notifications sounded—and a single blocked text message read: _She's mine now._

"What?" Carol looked up at Tara. "What does that mean?"

"Rosita," Shane strained. "Rosita...is the she."

Tara's phone shattered on the floor, Carol tried to stand, but Shane's weight was too much. She called after Tara who bolted out of the bar at top speed, and Boss and the others helped Shane to a chair. Carol wanted to offer him water and ask how he knew that or what the hell had happened, but her legs drew her to the door after Tara, who was long gone now, the darkness of night swallowing even her footsteps.

After getting water into him, Shane began to tell them what happened, and Carol focused to memorize his every word.

"I got a text from her phone telling me to pick her up, that her car had crapped out on her. I thought it was weird, but we used to be friends, so I went with it," he informed his fellow cops. "So when I got her place, the door was closed, but...there were really old flowers outside her door. When I knocked, she didn't answer. I had to call the super to let me in, and when I was inside...it was a mess. Her bedroom was destroyed in an obvious struggle. She didn't go down without a fight, but...somebody did take her. There wasn't a note or any blood that I could tell."

Carol grabbed her clutch. "I'll get Tara from the apartment to keep her fingerprints and DNA from corrupting his."

Boss nodded. "I'll get the crime scene unit down there."

"I'll drive us out there." Aaron pulled his coat on.

"We'll help." Lilly stood beside Tyreese with her unit. "She's one of ours, no matter what division, no matter what rank. She's PPD, and we're all gonna help bring her home and put this creep behind bars."

Carol nodded. "Then let's go." Every second was vital in a kidnapping, and she wouldn't waste a single one, not when Rosita's life was on the line. Not when her best friend was likely rummaging through her apartment for clues. She couldn't let Tara's heart corrupt evidence, so she had to stop her. If Tara wanted to work this case, she had to put her feelings aside, and Carol hoped to talk her into doing just that. If Tara couldn't work this case with them, she'd work it alone, and Carol wouldn't let her do that. They were partners, and Tara had a whole team ready to stand with her to bring Rosita back to them. Carol had to tell her this, because once it was said, once it got through her skull, they could really begin this investigation.

– – –

Everything inside the apartment was untouched. The living room was in the same order as it always was. The kitchen was neatly abandoned as Rosita never used it. The bathroom held the scent of soap and a damp bathrobe, moist heat still lingering in the air from the shower Rosita had taken that night. The hallway to her bedroom still held all the pictures of her family and her PPD family.

However her bedroom was torn the fuck up. The bed was utterly broken, her mirror to her vanity lied in pieces on the floor, bits of hair embedded into what remained still attached. Her dresser was knocked over, clothes dangling out of open drawers. Her outfit for that night was nowhere in sight, though two black heels were thrown about the room indicting he'd gotten her from behind at one point. There was splatter of some liquid on the floor and judging by how it was drying and how neat the rest of the house was, it was a sedative. It knocked her out. Likely when he grabbed her from behind, he injected her with it, meaning he tossed the needle away, and it leaked as she fell unconscious. It must have played out something like this.

Rosita slipped another jeweled pin into her hair to hold back the curls from her face, smiling at the final result. She felt like her old self again. She had done her makeup. She'd done her hair. She put on her best earrings and her favorite necklace her mom had given her when she was sixteen. She had even dug an old favorite dress out. She felt like she'd clothed herself in her old skin, and these items were bringing it back to her. Well, bringing her back to her.

She adjusted the sleeve to her dress, turning in the mirror to check if the slit was still tasteful—it was—and she walked over to her vanity to toss some items into her clutch. She had some gum, lipstick, her cell phone, a small handgun, her keys and that was about all she could fit into it. She was tempted to take something out so it wouldn't be so full, but it still closed, so it worked.

She smoothed out a wrinkle in her dress, tossing her hair over her shoulders and standing up tall. She had a lot to do tonight. For work, for herself, for answers, and she would get those answers. After all this time, she had to. To restore faith in her team, to restore her sanity, she had to pry. They would forgive her. Carol might not. Aaron might wonder where this came from. Boss would be defensive, but she had to know. They would understand later. They'd have to.

Since...what happened with Tara, she...pulled away from everybody, using her time off to avoid being at work until tonight. She couldn't be there. It ached too badly. She just wasn't strong enough, but now she was. She thought about the letters that appeared on the flowers, and she used it to give herself purpose. She wanted an upper hand somewhere, and this one fell onto her lap. She would learn the truth and not think about the pain. For as long as that would last, anyway.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise, she didn't move her eyes from where they'd fallen to the floor, and she inhaled. She spun around, clutch in hand and nearly bashed it into the man who had crept into her home without so much as a peep.

He caught her arm, her clutch falling to the floor, its contents spilling out onto the floor. He wore no mask. His light eyes burned into hers, and she instantly moved to strike again, but he used the arm he already held to jerk her around so her back was against his torso. She didn't like the flash of silver she saw in the mirror to her vanity, so she grunted and used all the force she could muster to use the arm he held and toss him into the vanity.

He grunted and shattered the mirror, landing in its pieces, and Rosita fell to the floor, crying softly at the pain vibrating through her arm. The force and the angle she used had broken it, and she inhaled sharply and rapidly through her nose, hand hovering over the injured limb. She didn't want to touch it, but she felt cradling it would make it better. Insane, but that's where her mind went.

"It's all right. You know me." He picked himself up off the floor. "You don't have to fight."

"Like hell I don't have to." She shot up and was backed into her dresser. "And I don't fucking know you."

"But you do." He stepped towards her. "For months, you've known me, my sweet Rosea."

The letters! Her eyes flashed, and her breathing increased even more. "I'll kill you."

"You won't." He'd finally reached her and stroked her cheek. "It won't be you who kills me, my dear."

She lifted her leg, using her weight and his body to propel her backwards. It sent her crashing to the floor, but she was about to roll with it and put distance between them. She reached for the handgun that had skidded over to her window.

"No!" He slammed his foot into her hand, for the first time injuring her, and she winced. He grabbed her by the throat and lifted her up off the ground, not intending to choke her, but still managing to. He slammed her down onto her bed, she cried out and saw black spots at the pressure it sent through her arm and bruised back. He climbed on top of her. " _Don't fight me_."

There was another flash of silver in the light, she screamed and tried to kick him off, using her one good hand to push. He had two hands and no injuries, so he fought her off. She struggled and grunted and kicked, and her bed caved in from the action. He was jolted backwards onto the floor, knocking his head on the wall, and she was only given an easy way to stand. Guess all those one night stands finally worked out in her favor.

She jumped up and made for the door at top speed, but crazy didn't go down so easily. She felt arms on her waist when she reached the doorway, he held her in such a tight grip that black spots once more filled her vision due to the pressure on her broken arm, and all she felt next was a needle in her throat. The world went so dark...a dull clatter followed it, and then there was nothing. Cold, painful nothing.


	29. The Laughing Flower

_Do you ever wonder what the point of everything is? Does it just hit you out of the blue, and all of a sudden everything you've ever done in your entire life seems...pointless, wasted. You thought it would all lead up to one glorious moment of pay off where it all fell into place like in the movies, and you could finally breathe, laugh and soak it all in, but instead...you're choking. You're suffocating, and your chest is heavy, and your head is in a haze. The world has stopped in its slow, eternal spin, and your entire life crumbles to tiny pieces at your feet. You can't even cover your eyes to hide from this truth, because...your body is sore, and your limbs won't follow your brains commands. It's...like the end. Truly._

––

Another flash flickered in the corner of Tara's vision as the crime scene unit surveyed the crime scene. Boss and Rush were consulting in the doorway while Carol and Scotty examined the apartment. Glenn and Aaron were at the station with Kat and Nick, trying to piece together a board for them to return to. There was nothing. Aside from the initial fight, there was nothing—no fingerprints, no shoe prints, no reports of a fight from the neighbors. Nobody was here at the time, and nobody saw anything. Not to mention that Rosita's apartment door was just out of the security camera's shot. Tara told her to report that fucking camera to her super years ago, and if she had, this all would have been a lot simpler. But no, no, she just had to be so damn pigheaded and believed she could take care of herself. Sometimes a little aid went a long way at the end of the day. When they found her, Tara would be sure she knew that.

"Chambler." Tyreese motioned for her to follow him out into the hall while Lilly joined Carol and the lead of the CSU to review what they'd found. "A word."

"Yes, Boss?" She met his steely eyes. "What is it?"

"I'm going to ask you one question, and I need an honest answer."

"All right."

"Are you involved with Rosita? Romantically involved." She faltered before him. "Don't try and talk your way out of it. I don't care if you two are together. I just need to know if I can keep you on this case."

"What?" she erupted. "Why wouldn't I be allowed on this case? She's my girlfriend! My best friend! One of our own! I have to find her! You can't cut me out of this!"

"I can if you can't keep a level head, and I don't think you can at the moment."

"I can! I could. I mean, I _will._ I'm just..in shock." She lowered her voice and her eyes. "I don't know why this happened. I feel...so lost and confused, and...I'm so scared for her."

"Chambler..."

"I know she can fend for herself. She's tough as nails, but...there are people out there you can use that against her and enjoy every second of it." She brought her hand up to her mouth. "I just want her home, Tyreese."

"We all do." He set a hand on her shoulder. "We'll bring her home. I'm counting on you, all right? You spent the most time with her, and you'll be key to solving this, but you need to keep a level head. No running off on your own, no following leads without my consent. If I think for even a second you've let your emotions cloud your judgement, you're off this case. If you go against my orders, you're going to be put on leave. All right? This is a serious matter, and I can't have you running wild through this city because of your heart."

She gulped, but was able to nod. "As long as I can be there for every lead, you have my word, Boss."

"Good. Go review with Lilly. I'm going to head to the station to bring some order to the detectives there."

"Thanks, Boss."

He nodded and headed out, Tara inhaled deeply and entered the apartment, and Lilly was in the middle of speaking with Scotty and Carol about the CSU's findings. Lilly didn't fill Tara in on what she missed, simply headed out, and Scotty filled Tara in as Carol gathered up her dress to quickly get out of the way of the unit scrutinizing the apartment.

"Thanks, Valens." Tara smiled a little. "We're gonna get changed then meet you guys at HQ."

"Smart move." He loosened his tie. "Don't linger, though."

"Trust me, we won't."

They went their separate ways, and once at their apartment, Tara glanced at Carol, who tossed her heels at the couch. She slipped into her room without a word, and Tara hurried to her own to change. They were right back out the door ten minutes later, and soon they were reunited with their new mishmashed team.

"All right, we have some samples being analyzed from the apartment," Lilly announced to the team. "They're rushing it for us, but until then we'll need to do this by the book. She's one of ours, and this won't be a recovery, got it? We're bringin' her home."

"Damn straight." Scotty rolled up his sleeves. "Peletier and me will talk to her neighbors. It's a little too late to now, but we'll try and speak to as many as we can. We'll leave some cards and have them call us back. We'll go back to interview the ones who don't call back in the morning."

"Good idea." Boss joined them from his office. "I want Kat and Glenn to collect the surveillance footage from all the nearby shops. The smoothie-yoga studio across the street, the ATM, the street cameras—all of them."

"Aaron and Nick, I want you to dig into Rosita's life—her financials, her old flames, her lifestyle habits, old cases that might have accrued any enemies. Pull her phone records, the whole nine yards." Lilly spoke next, glancing at Tara, whose jaws clenched at that entire sentence. "Tara and I will look over the crime scene again. She has fresh eyes, and I want to be sure CSU didn't miss anything."

Tara shifted where she stood at the mention of prodding through Rosita's personal information once more, and it was like Boss sensed it, because he looked directly at her. She knew Lilly had seen her too, but Boss was more of a threat. He would drop her from this case, and she needed to assure to him that she was okay with this. Even if she wasn't. By any means on any level.

She nodded that it was okay with her, and Boss instructed her and Lilly to contact Rosita's family to let them know what was going on. Tara was glad this was given to her. She wouldn't want anyone else to tell them. Carol would be acceptable, but she wanted it to be her. She wanted them to now she would do everything—everything—inside and outside her ability to find Rosita and bring her home. She would swear, because it was going to work out. They were going to bring her home.

Glenn and Kat weren't happy about having to get tapes at this time of night, especially since they would need a warrant. People did not like to give up information just for the hell of it. They would have to find a judge, and most were either in bed, at the party and now wasted, or they weren't in the state to be of any help. It wouldn't be easy, but for Rosita, for one of theirs, it would happen.

Everyone broke up into their teams, Aaron introduced himself to Nick Vera, and they didn't waste much time on those introduction. As the senior of the two, Vera instructed Aaron to pull her phone records and fiances. He went over to her desk and began to rifle through it, Aaron held a phone to his ear to request those records, cringing outwardly at someone going through her things, and Nick assured him he would be respectful. It didn't mean much, because she was missing, but it was good to hear. Invading the privacy of a private person who was like family to him was difficult, but he would bring her home. If this was what it took then he would bring her home by going through every inch of her life. She would be aggravated but alive.

Vera found an address book in the bottom drawer that held a few numbers, mostly family members that shared her last name, and he would leave that up to Lil and Tara. He would call in this Abraham Ford and a few others that were marked under Back Ups, and he would give them a time to come in tomorrow. If they didn't come in, they were suspects, and he would be going to them. No one would avoid questioning here.

Aaron looked over her purchases and smiled at all the coffee stops, affectionately looking over at her desk, almost wanting to make a joke at, but there was no there to make jokes at. Nick had gone and contacted everyone who was in the address book and who was a contact in her phone. She had a lot of family, and luckily she had them listed as such. Her non-cop and non-relative numbers were few. The woman needed to branch out and get to know people. Aaron would have to arrange some type of meet and greet to get her some new friends. She would hate every second of it.

He noted a few large purchases at...questionable shops, and he noticed one she went to a lot. He looked into it and was half interested in their products and half horrified by the images of her and Tara using these. Although Rosita would look like a knockout in that crush velvet corset and garters. If he was a straight man, that would have gone somewhere, but he wasn't. There was big respect there, though. He might have to buy this for her as a gift. She would kill him. He had to do it.

He gripped his phone tightly in his hand, squeezing his eyes shut, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked up to find Nick standing beside him with a cup of coffee in his hand. He accepted it and inhaled deeply.

"Have you gone through this before?" Aaron set his phone on the desk and looked at Vera.

"A couple times." He scratched off a name from the list he'd made on the tablet. "Lil attracts a type, lemme tell you."

"She seems strong. Like Rosita."

"Our Ice Queen of the PPD." He chuckled. "Couldn't be more wrong if they tried with that one. She is all heart. I'm glad to have her take over as Boss. She'll lead our unit to great places, and if anyone can bring Rosita home, it's Lil."

"Hey, don't let her hear that." Scotty entered the bullpen, referring to the soft heart his wife had.

"Shouldn't you be checking on the neighbors?" Vera chastised.

"It was a short questioning." Carol set her coat on her desk. "The entire floor was out that evening. They were given gifts or won free tickets all for tonight, and even the super wasn't home."

"You checked the whole floor?" Aaron frowned.

Scotty nodded. "I'm gonna make another run tomorrow to speak to them and see if they saw anyone who didn't live there or that was lurkin'. Everyone's too tired or not there." He crossed his arms. "And seriously, don't let Lil hear that."

"Is she your wife, or—?"

"Damn right she is," Scotty interrupted his comment with a smirk. "The rest don't matter, now where are you at with those contacts? My wife's gonna kick my ass if I don't produce somethin'."

"Is she so stern?" Carol joined Aaron by his computer to lend him a hand.

"Yes. She's all about the job." A fond smile crossed his lips. "You couldn't have asked for a better cop to be on this case. She's relentless."

"Not so good for the baby, though." Vera scratched off another name. "And just so everyone is aware of that."

"She's pregnant?" Aaron looked at Carol. "And working the front? Why?"

"Trust me, I tried to make her stop, but it's like tryin' to bend metal with my bare hands." Scotty shook his head. "So, bring Espinosa home soon. I'm gettin' gray hairs worryin' over all of this."

Carol shook her head and sat down. "We need to come up with suspects. I have no clue who could have done this, though. She and Tara were involved for a while, so it couldn't be an ex."

"Well, if it's serious, an ex could be jealous they didn't make it." Scotty looked over what Vera had on the tablet. "I'll take Ford and Whitter when they get in. You and Aaron should take Jimenez and Ovetenl. What the hell kinda name is that?"

"Ford?" Carol cut a look at Aaron. "You don't think...?"

"No way. He and Rosita don't even speak."

"She called him last week," Vera corrected. "It was a four hour conversation. She deleted it from her phone history, but the record stands."

"Oh, my God." Carol held her stomach. "There's no way...she could call him and not tell us."

"She didn't tell y'all about her and Tara, right?" Scotty wrote Abraham's name on the whiteboard on the suspect list. "You don't know everyone, even when they're close to you. It's a hard pill to swallow, but this isn't personal. Don't take it as such, just keep your eye on the goal here: Rosita. The rest can be filled in once we have her home and safe."

Carol nodded and focused on her task, a small smile crossing her lips at all the coffee charges. _We're coming for you, sweetie, just hold on and fuck this asshole up._

––

Lilly adjusted the glove on her hand, looking over the mail Rosita had gotten the last few days, seeing letters from another woman. She sent a picture of the address and name to Vera's phone, looking over Tara who was more straightening up than looking for evidence.

"You won't find anything like that." She approached her. "We're cops, not maids, all right?"

"It's not like I can't be both."

"No, you can't. This isn't a mess we're cleaning up—it's a person we're trying to find. Your girlfriend. She doesn't need a clean apartment. She needs to be found. I know it's difficult to stand here and look for evidence of her abduction, but you have to." She studied her face and tried a softer approach. "You have the strength to do this. You have to use it now. I know how this feels, I really do, but I need you on your A game."

"The last thing I said to her was I love her, and she ran away from me." She blinked hard and exhaled.

She smiled. "Ask Scotty how hard it was to land me."

She looked over at her. "You won't tell me?"

"Not one for personal stories." She shrugged a shoulder. "You can't focus on "the last time". You have to focus on "the next time". It helps."

She nodded. "I'll check the bedroom again."

"Let's."

They looked over the destruction of Rosita's room, Tara could almost see it as it was, the two of them tangled up in bed, laughing and struggling to get out of the bedding. Or more intimate moments of kissing the hard skin of her stomach, feeling it fluttering under her lips and knowing she could feel that forever and be...fucking thrilled. Now she wasn't sure she even had a one last time.

Her eyes moved over to the broken bits of the mirror, seeing Rosita brushing her hair in front of it, making silly faces while Tara dressed and returned those faces. She laughed softly and snuffled, bending down and picking up a mirror broken shard. She closed her hand around it careful of its sharp edges, and she exhaled, letting it fall back against the others. She swallowed and spotted a slight dent in the wall. She had seen CSU taking pictures of the entire room, but she wasn't sure anybody even noted that.

She set a gloved finger onto the dent, narrowing her eyes at the speck of color there, and she grabbed a cotton swab from the bag while Lilly neared her, watching her extract the sample. "Looks like blood, maybe."

"Could be hers."

"Yeah, I doubt it." She encased it in a plastic protector. "Even in heels, she's not that tall."

She nodded then swallowed loudly, Tara eyed her, and she turned away from her, a hand on the wall beside her before she ran across the hall to the bathroom. Tara followed to be sure she was okay and found her puking her guts up, and Tara closed the door to let her have some privacy and felt a wave of ice hit her. She shuddered and contacted Jacqui to have her prep the lab. It was small, but it was something.

She hurried down the hall and knocked over the glass bowl her letters were placed in. She cursed and told Jacqui she'd be there in a few minutes. She picked up the letters and noticed a flower arrangement card among them. The odd thing was it had Tara's name written on it in in handwriting she had never seen before, and she grabbed a baggie for it, leaving the mess behind and seeing Lilly coming out of the hall with a hand to her mouth.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." She popped a mint into her mouth and chomped down on it. "Remind me to smack Valens."

"Why?" She closed the baggie.

Because he suggested finishing up some paperwork and wine. If he hadn't brought her food and brought up how long it'd been since they were alone, she wouldn't have had to make a point on how long it wasn't. She lost that argument, and somehow he'd talked her into a fun quickie in the interrogation room. Fun caused them to nearly bust the two sided glass and tore her favorite blouse. It was nice, though, to be with him after such along case. He held her against that damned glass, slipping on his own pants, and she laughed at him. It felt good to laugh, and all that came after felt incredible.

Tara watched a smile shine in Lilly's eyes, her hand moving from her mouth to her stomach. "You're pregnant?"

She blinked out of her thoughts. "What?"

"You're pregnant." She smiled at her. "Four months or five?"

"Almost five." She smiled shyly. "He doesn't know, but I'm having twins."

"Wow, you're hardly showing."

"You can feel them when you touch my stomach, though." She looked at her belly. "They are high, so I'm thinking they're boys. I'm going to have three of him."

She laughed once. "You love him, though."

"You love her, too, and you'll have moments like this. Maybe not the same backstory, but..." She inhaled. "It'll happen."

"I have some evidence for Jacqui and her lab nerds. Let's get going." She paused when Lilly gagged. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Someone's cooking... Oh, God." She hurried back to the bathroom.

Somewhere in between the heaving, Lilly told her to head back without her, and Tara would sent her husband to come and get her. She had to get this back to Jacqui and see what the others had found.

––

"Where's Lil?" Scotty immediately inquired when Tara was kicked out of the lab by Jacqui and returned to the bullpen.

"She's going to kill you, I think. She's catching a cab, last I heard." She'd sent her a text on it. Tara removed her jacket. "Give me some good news."

Nick smirked at the first part of that statement, and Scotty sucked air in through his teeth, leaning back in his chair. Kat smiled briefly, going to the break room to make some tea for Lil, and Glenn filled her in on their sad ass progress. They needed it to be morning to really get anywhere, but they had an outline of the kidnapping. They were able to find out he somehow matched her key, that put the super on the board, and Tara stared at Abe's name on the board and the phone call sheet. She walked over and grasped the sheet.

"Kat and I already have the warrants," Glenn continued. "We just need the stores to open."

"Carol and I will go back tomorrow to try and get a description of any lingerin' people in the apartment," Scotty added. "Super's gonna meet us, too. He might have an alibi, but someone got a hold of Rosita's key, so he may be in on it."

"And we have interviews lined up for the entire morning," Nick added. "Got the unis ready in case any don't show."

"Good work." Lilly strolled into the room, and she was wearing a different top, her hair down now, and Kat brought her the ginger tea. "Thank you."

"Yep." She rolled her eyes over to Valens, who glared at her slightly. "Her parents haven't picked up at their home, so Tara and you will go over first thing to tell them."

Lilly nodded and zeroed in on the board. "It's not the super."

"How do you know?" Carol had worked hard on fitting him into this.

"He spent an hour showing me his trip to the opera, and it was time stamped. I double checked, and it was a rare show he attended tonight. He also smelled like a whiskey and lemon." She drank from the cup. "He's missing a key on his ring, so the doer likely lifted it from him." He wasn't an agile man, and honestly, he spent a good twenty minutes repeating himself. He had no criminal bone in his body, but he was a bit of a perv. Men who were into pregnant woman were... Ugk.

"Damn." Glenn shook his head, both impressed and thoroughly pissed off. He was a strong lead, even if he was only in it. "How's that sample coming?"

"I'm banned from the lab." Tara looked over the notes they'd added. "Someone else will have to go and ask."

"Get some rest." Tyreese came out of his office. "I want you all in here by six. I need you rested and ready for whatever comes next. Rosita needs us to be on our best game, and I'm sending you all home, especially you Rush and Chambler."

"Boss." Tara whirled around and tried to argue.

"It's after midnight. No one is awake to question." He cut a cold glare back to challenge hers. "Go home."

"C'mon." Carol hopped up and guided her out of the office. "We can throw ideas back and forth for a couple hours."

The bullpen emptied out, Lilly, Boss and Scotty remained, ensuring the rest of them cleared out. Scotty pulled a picture of Rosita off the board and tucked it into his pocket, and Lilly eyed Tyreese for the longest time before speaking.

"You aren't going home, are you?"

"This is my home." He smirked. "I have Jacqui to keep company, and I need to be here. You need to be in bed."

She held her free hand up in a gesture of peace and sighed. "Stop it."

"Stop what?" Scotty turned around. "He meant well, Lil."

"No, not you guys." She set a hand on her stomach. "Someone's kicking."

He smiled and jogged over, setting a hand over her belly and laughing at the strong kick there. "That's my kid in there, eh?"

Ty chuckled at the kids before him. "Get to bed then."

"I'll be back at five." Lilly turned to walk out, and Scotty caught her hips. She sent him a glare, but Tyreese had gone back to his office. "Scotty, stop. We're at work."

"Hang on." He pulled her close, she blushed as those dark eyes fixed on her, and his smile returned. "There you are."

"I'm always here."

"Not always." He tucked hair behind her ear. "You okay to do this?"

"I'm pregnant, not crippled."

"Don't get that tone with me," he griped. "I worry. I got a right. You don't think." She inhaled and set her jaw, but she didn't dare speak. "And I love that about you, but this is my kid and my wife. I love 'em both with all I got, so please think—for me. We don't know who this guy is, but he's good. You know that, I know that, so please, Lil."

She exhaled. "Okay."

He kissed her. "Let's get home. Gina's bound to be in bed. You hungry?"

"I'm always hungry." She smirked and tilted her head to the side. "And for more than just your cooking."

He arched a brow. "You're weird, Lil."

"Humor me." She wrapped her arms around his neck, minding the warm tea cup in her hand. "Take my mind off this case, Valens."

"What, here?"

Her eyes lit up. "My new office."

"I was joking."

"We can sleep in there, too. Save time and gas, and I can be back up here for those interviews."

"Oh, my God, Lil, stop. You need food and an actual bed."

"We can order in, and a couch is fine." She let him go and retrieved the tablet from Glenn's desk containing all the information on this case. "Let's go."

"No, put that back." He tried to take it, but she was still slippery, and she smirked coyly at him. Damn, he was going to pound her into that couch if she kept looking at him like that. "Lil, I'm serious. You need a bed and protein."

"Hush." She pressed the down button, he grasped her waist, and she leaned against him. "I need a distraction to a point, Scotty. Please understand."

"I do." He kissed the back of her head and handed her the picture of Rosita. "Keep her close till we bring her home."

She smiled and accepted the picture.

The elevator doors opened, a janitor stepped off, and they stepped on. Scotty glanced at the janitor who nodded a greeting at him, and Scotty smiled a bit before taking the tablet from his wife. He needed a bargaining chip for the next couple of hours, and while he would regret this, he was going to do it anyway. He had to think of her well being while she thought only of Rosita's.

They got off at their floor, Lilly unlocked the office and set the tea down, pulling out her phone to order her go-to pregnancy meal, and Scotty loosened his tie. He had spare clothes in the car in case Lil got sick on him—happened twice when she was pregnant last time. The first time she just turned to go off on him for his opinion on their victim's hot wife and upchucked. Kat pieced it together after her stomach calmed, and the second time was during sex, and he just got used to it. Gina puked on him, too. A lot. It's like he wore a sign for his girls to puke on him. His girls, only. Anyone else was getting words. Maybe even these hands.

"Okay, food will be here in thirty minutes." She set her phone down and ran her eyes over his body.

"I feel like _I'm_ the food." He tossed his tie onto her desk. "You look at cinnamon buns like that, you know."

"Well, add icing, and it's the same." She smiled sweetly at him, and he chuckled, waltzing up to her and pinning her hips against the desk. She slid her hand over his crisp baby blue shirt and hooked her index finger on his collar. "Don't worry so much about me, Scotty. I can handle myself."

"It ain't just yourself," he replied, cupping her cheek. "I think about all the times I damn near lost you, and I can't breathe, Lil. Do you hear me? I can't. I love you so much, and I keep thinkin' if I was Tara, I'd burn this city down."

"That's counterproductive."

He didn't laugh, only stared into her eyes. "You're mine, Lilly Rush. I lost one love, and I ain't doin' that again."

"Scotty—"

"No, listen to me, _Lieutenant_ Rush, I'm gonna have my way with you until you can't walk, and then we're gonna get fatter on noodles and study this case." He started to smile, and she returned it. "Walkin' around here like a damn goddess." That lithe figure, those hips...

"Only because I know you're here." She kissed him and pulled him closer, the babies in her belly moving, and she chuckled. "No privacy anymore."

"Well, I'll just embarrassed 'em into goin' to asleep or somethin'." He lifted her up and onto the desk, cradling the back of her head and kissing her softly. "Got a few ways of doin' that." He dropped his jacket to the floor and joined her on the desk.

– – –

Glenn and Kat were reviewing the tapes they had gotten in a four mile radius around Rosita's place, Scotty and Carol were back at Rosita's apartment, and Aaron, Tyreese, Lilly and Nick were interviewing the people Nick had called in. Tara was looking over the sample results Jacqui had left on her desk that morning, and while there was no match in the system, there was a small hair strands in the blood, too. He had light hair, like faded red or blonde, and he wasn't on drugs. That was one thing.

Lilly and Boss exited the interview room, Lilly was rolling her eyes, and Boss was escorting one of Rosita's exes out of the bullpen. Lilly joined Tara and saw her staring at the results again. It was the only piece of this asshole they had, so she didn't blame her. That, and the type of drug used to incapacitate Rosita.

"You want in on one?" Lilly nodded her head to the interview room.

"Yeah, I want Ford." She lowered the folder. "He's in soon, right?"

"Yeah, seven." She exhaled deeply and burped softly. "Sorry. Indigestion."

"What was your breakfast?" Tara unfortunately could smell it. "Is that kung pao chicken?"

She pursed her lips. "I have to write up my notes on that interview." She sat down at Carol's desk.

"I have some Pepto." Tara pushed back in her chair to open the middle drawer. "Tablets, I mean."

"Please." She smiled with relief. "I've had heartburn since last night."

"I got you." She opened the drawer, her lips parted at what she found, and she shot up, stumbling away from her desk.

"What...?" Lilly stood up and whipped around the desk at the a perfectly fitted photo of Rosita tied up in her gown, bruised and unconscious, in a dark space. There were yellow flowers all around her, abnormally bright against the blackness of the space around her. "Tyreese!"

They shut the area down, Glenn looked over the cameras from the night before, Aaron kept Tara from destroying the picture and assuring her it was a good sign from this prick. He was here. He could have made a mistake or left a fingerprint. He definitely was on their cameras, and they would have a body type to show to Rosita's neighbors. They had a figure to refer to now.

"He touched my things." Tara glowered at her desk as the crime scene unit inspected it. "He touched my girlfriend and my desk, and I'm going to break his fucking fingers."

"Tara." Aaron held her wrist to keep her from storming off. "Breathe."

"I am. I am breathing and dreaming of breaking his fucking fingers." She seethed, seeing Rosita's face cut up and swollen in the dark, and she closed her eyes. "Damn him." She was all alone in the dark, hurt, and there was nothing they could do. They had no leads, no clues, nothing. He was in the wind, and Rosita was... was...

"Hey." Lilly set a hand on her arm. "There's no fingerprints, but we did find a note on the picture. It's a type of flower."

"Here we go." Vera brought the tablet over to show the beauty of the flowers around Rosita. "This is a tansy."

"Aww, here I thought you'd bring me roses." Kat joined them, hands on her hips, looking over the flowers. "Don't those mean war or something?" Lilly arched a brow at her, and Kat shrugged a shoulder. "What, my kid reads a lot. She's very dramatic. I don't know where she gets it."

"Gee, you don't?" Vera dryly retorted.

"Ha ha." She crossed her arms. "What's it mean, Vera?"

"I declare war on you." He cut a look to Tara. "That means you, by the way."

"I was keeping up without subtitles, thanks." Tara's voice was sharper than she meant it to be, but she wouldn't apologize. "Anything else?"

"Yeah, this." He pulled out a baggie of braided black hair. "One guess who it belongs to."

"He cut her hair?" Tara gently took the baggie and touched the braid that had glitter in, and she gulped.

"He wants to provoke you." Lilly held her hand out for the baggie, Tara reluctantly handed it over, and she looked it over closely. "Does she use glitter?"

"No." Tara inhaled. "Body glitter, but not in her hair and not for important events like Stillman retiring."

"So he cut braided her hair, cut it and put glitter on it?" Kat's lip curl to the side in disgust. "What for? He pisses you off, but what good does that do? We have nada on the guy, so...why? He gets his jollies off on a reaction he can't even see?"

"That's exactly right, only he can see this." Aaron whirled around to the large floor to ceiling windows lining the back wall. "He's watching us."

"There's roof access in those two buildings." Kat pointed to the two across from them. "You need a key card for both. Mostly the staff have the cards, some janitors and maintenance men."

A thought snapped in Lilly's head, and she gripped the baggie. "I saw him."

"Huh?" Nick frowned. "When?"

"Last night. Me and Scotty were leaving, and janitor walked by us." She backed up. "I...I thought it was odd he came so late, but... I was distracted."

"Thanks a lot, Man Meat." Kat pulled her her phone. "He poses as the cleaning staff and gets a full view."

Lilly blushed at the realization that she and Scotty hadn't closed the blinds last night.

"Hey, you okay?" Kat touched the back of her hand to Lilly's forehead. "You're pink."

"I'm fine. Who are you calling?"

"Man Meat. He and Carol oughta to be back soon, but I need a favor." She walked over to Rosita's desk and grabbed a pen and notepad while CSU swarmed around the area. "Hey, Valens, how pretty do you look today?"

"Is she serious?" Tara lunged for Kat, but Aaron grabbed her arm. "Don't."

"Stop it, or Boss will throw you off the case." He searched her eyes. "They have to lighten the mood, Tara. You know this. If it gets too heavy...we're screwed. We need humor. You and I are the humor of this home."

"Yes, but the woman I love is beaten and bruised, dammit." She wanted to scream it, but her voice was weak and full of agony, wrapping around her neck and choking her. "She's his toy right now, and I can't do anything. He could do anything to her, Aaron. _Anything_."

"Which is why we laugh. If we all stayed here in the rage and the what ifs, we'd never get anything done. I'm not asking for you to laugh and jump up and down, simply to breathe and know that the best people in this city are on your side and looking for her." He loosened his grip on her wrist. "Focus on her, but don't let him in."

"It's hard when he makes himself at home in my life." Her eyes fell to the picture of Rosita lying bound, and her eyes burned. "Fuck this perp, Aaron."

He nodded. "Get some air."

"No, if he wants to watch me and my reactions, he can watch me locate his ass and throw him in prison." She went over to her desk and collected a pen and notepad to speak to the remaining people in the lobby.

"I'll go." Lilly handed the baggie to Aaron. "Get that to Jacqui. We might find something in the glitter." She went after Tara and caught her on the elevator.

"How can you love someone so much," Tara murmured, "and not know if you'll ever see them again?" Or if they even loved you the same?

"You don't do anything." Lilly inhaled. "They tend to find you."

"Lilly, please." A tear fell free from her eye, and she gripped the notepad tightly.

"I'm serious. You remind me of Scotty so much." She chuckled softly. "All fire and determination. He is the office hothead, and he's so much. He's unyielding to the point of self-destruction. He's caring and soft. He's...the type of man who loves you for the rest of his life. Our lives have been opposite, but we never give up on each other. That partnership became friendship became...more. We became more because of him. He loved me and loved me and... _loved_ me." Her eyes burned. "And I knew that. I saw it, felt it... I still feel it, even when he's not around."

Her shoulders trembled, and her soul wept with her.

"But he loved me despite everything I did to try and ruin us. I thought...how selfish could I be to remain involved with this caring, amazing, thoughtful man when I didn't...couldn't want all the things he wanted? The house, the kids, the..the marriage. I hurt him trying to let him find someone else to love, but he didn't give up. So I let him in. It was the biggest challenge of my life after all the mistrust and love I'd lost, but he loved me through it. When we were hurting, he loved me through it. When we were apart because I was scared, he loved me. And now... he loves me, and I love him." She looked at Tara. "People like you and Scotty are...built to endure in a different way than say, me and Peletier. You endure with love and patience and that hotheadedness is...not just anger and rage; it's warmth. It's a fire that melts away walls. It sounds stupid and very childish, but it is true. Besides, he put it in his vows, and I think now—"

The doors opened, and the sight of Scotty and Carol made her stop talking, Lilly averted her eyes, and Scotty narrowed his eyes. Carol moved into check in on Tara, and Scotty asked what Lilly had done now. She simply handed him her phone to show him the picture and braid.

"I hate when they take hair. It's weird." He blocked the elevators doors from shutting. "Dickhead."

"Hey." Carol wrapped an arm around Tara. "What's...um, new?"

She lifted her head, her eyes instantly finding Abraham Ford in the lobby, and she exhaled. She stepped off the elevator, the pen and notepad hit the floor, Carol yanked on Scotty's arm and went after her. Lilly picked up the fallen items as Tara closed the space between her and Abe and punched him right in the jaw, and Scotty and Carol barely made it over in time to stop her from striking again. Scotty grabbed her waist and hauled her away from the man, and Carol stood between them, but Tara wasn't fighting.

Abe nodded and popped his jaw. "Nice to see you, too."

"Fuck your entire existence, Ford." Tara hissed at the man, voice low and lethal.

"She got around to you now?" He smirked. "She's insatiable."

Scotty let Tara go and moved around her, and Lilly gripped his arm to stop him. He laughed mirthlessly at the man and balled his hand into a fist. "You lucky son of a..." He narrowed his eyes. "I'm good, Rush."

"Yeah, right." Lilly set her hand on his torso and moved in front of him. "Abraham Ford?"

"So they tell me." He looked at them. "I know she's gone, but this is just sad."

"She's our family," Carol shot back. "You don't get to question this kind of love and loyalty, so don't start. Just answer our questions. Why did she call you?"

"If you don't trust her," Abe's eyes moved to Tara, "you're smart and adorable."

"I swear to God," Tara warned.

"Okay, Valens, Chambler, upstairs." Lilly cut an icy stare at them. "Now."

"Not a chance." Tara stepped closer. "Answer the question."

"She just wanted to talk. I have no fucking clue why she wanted to speak to me. I haven't...spoken to her in years, and I...was surprised she was started talking about you." His eyes moved to Tara. "For four hours. She told me all about you two and your relationship since that night at the club. She called me out and confronted me about the affair and Ellen. She hit me, too."

"You saw her?" Tara searched his eyes and saw no lies there. "When?"

"Before the party. She needed to...see me in person then she hit me." He chuckled. "She say it was to give back all the shit I'd given her. She smirked then walked away."

"What does that mean?" Scotty looked at Tara.

"She loves Tara, too." Carol smiled at Tara. "That's what it means."

"Yep." He inhaled deeply and stepped closer to Tara make actual eye contact. "She loves you, and she realized I...am not worth all the trouble I caused. She used me like a shield, but she didn't need to be protected from you. I was a passin' thing, but you've been real to her since the start." Tara tried to speak, but he didn't let her. "She deserves it, so bring her home."

Tara said nothing to him and headed back to the bullpen, flipping him off on her way without looking back.

He shook his head with a smirk. "Can I go now?"

Lilly nodded and dropped her hand from Scotty's stomach, looking out the windows. "I want a hot dog."

"I'll get you one." Scotty kissed her temple. "No relish."

"But I want relish."

"Be glad you get the dog at all." He jogged out the door. "Remember the last time."

"Scotty, I want the damn relish." She huffed, and Carol was laughing. "You should go home and sleep. I know you stayed up all night with Tara."

"I slept." Carol frowned and realized how dumb it was to lie to the lieutenant of the cold case department. "I have coffee."

"Chambler slept a bit while the results were processed on the blood and card, so go and rest. We have to get access to the buildings behind us, and my husband clearly wasn't charming enough, so I need to speak to an old friend. We have nothing but sleep inducing tapes and interviews. Go."

"Is that you asking, or...?"

"I don't ask." She eyed Scotty motioning for something to be drizzled on the dog. "We'll call you in immediately if we find anything new."

"I don't like it."

"I don't like losing people to exhaustion. Glenn will be following you out. Vera, too. I need a rested team, like Tyreese said, so rest and clear the clutter. You might crack this case open."

She nodded and headed out as Scotty reentered the building with two hot dogs, and Lilly smiled at the sight of relish. He didn't approve, because it would give her heartburn later, but it was her heart. He'd just never hear the end of it. Somehow this would be his fault. It always ended up being his fault.

– – –

Carol entered the shop that lead to Daryl and Merle's apartments, waving to Axel briefly and climbing up the stairs. She couldn't go home and try to sleep. She needed to talk to him and explode about all of this and about them. Tara wasn't the only one with a relationship in a rut. Prior to kidnapping, anyway. Thank God Daryl was home and safe. She hoped and prayed to say the same about Rosita soon.

Carol found the door to Daryl's apartment unlocked. It was odd for him to leave his door unlocked. She'd gotten onto him about that when they first began to date, and he started to lock it every night. Just because he had two front doors didn't mean he had to leave the second door unlocked. It was extra protection. So...why now was it unlocked?

She entered his apartment, calling softly to him in case he was asleep. She didn't like the idea of intruding on his life like this, but she had to know what was going on. It wasn't like him to blow her off. It wasn't who he was. He would have called to let her know if something came up with work or with Merle or with Bri. He wouldn't have just flat out ignored her. She knew him better than that. This move was one of Merle's, not Daryl's, so why was he using it?

She located the missing man in his bed, his blankets loosely tossed on him as he slept in a t-shirt and sweatpants. He was a mess, all stretched out, hair all mussed up, head turned to be buried in a pillow despite him being on his back. He looked so deep in slumber, it was no wonder he hadn't woken to her calls. She wasn't surprised that he was a deep sleeper. She'd slept over here a number of times. She was a little surprised to find him not only asleep at twelve in the afternoon but also with company.

Amy lied beside him in shorts and a tank top, her hair all mussed up too, snoozing silently. She was curled up, facing Daryl, so they'd likely just fallen asleep talking to each other. She was almost even holding his hand, her fingertips only inches from his palm, and speaking of inches, her body was only inches from his. And...those weren't actually shorts. They were Daryl's boxers. The ones Carol had given him as a gag gift. They had little plungers on them, and they were colorful unlike his normal dark tones...

Daryl began to wake suddenly at the feel of his eyes on him, Carol couldn't move from the archway, and he pushed himself up. His hair fell into his face, and with his index finger and thumb, he rubbed his eyes in an attempt to rub the exhaustion out of them. He felt another person in the room and dropped his hand, his eyes locking on his girlfriend. He wasn't surprised to find her here, but his heart began to race with anxiety and a lack of an explanation. He really wished he had something to say, but he didn't. His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

Carol stepped back, which turned into stumbling as she tripped backwards twice, falling out of Daryl's sight, and she hit the wall, staying there. She felt stuck on pause, and the motion just knocked her back. Any air fled her lungs, and she felt...still. Not numb, just still. She wasn't even sure her legs had moved at all. She felt...lightheaded.

"Carol." Daryl rounded the corner and found her motionless against the wall. "You all right?"

"You didn't answer my texts," was all that came out, her voice...dry, drained of all emotion, the oval of her eye twitching slightly. "Or return my calls." She didn't know what to feel or think right now.

"It's not what you think," he assured her.

"It's not?" She was thinking nothing, so it was something?

Daryl felt guilt pool into his heart as tears rose up in her eyes. "Don't cry." He tried to touch her, but she shrank away from him. "I'm sorry."

She didn't mean to cry. She wasn't upset. She was just confused. Perhaps it was her mind's way of protecting herself, but her heart always betrayed her mind. Hence the tears. "Don't." It was soft, a plea.

"Carol, it's not... Nothing happened or ever will happen between me and Amy, all right? She just needed somewhere to crash. I have a guest bedroom, and yeah, it would have made sense for her to use it, but she didn't want to be alone. You don't know the whole story." He tried to reach her again, but again she flinched away. "Please—please, don't cry."

She shook her head, feeling the tears her heart summoned. "I should go."

"No, please, don't go."

"I should...go." She pushed off the wall and headed towards the doors limply. She was stopped only by Daryl's arms wrapping around her body and pulling her flush against his body. She shuddered at his touch, and she didn't try to escape. She didn't have the energy. "Don't."

"You gotta listen to me." He was his turn to plea, his voice soft and desperate. "It ain't what it looks like, all right? Am got into some trouble, and I had to help her out. I didn't even have my phone. Bri did. She killed the battery on it, so I didn't get your messages. I—I was so busy tryin' to help Amy that I forgot about the party. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? You ended up in bed with Amy—"

"Nothing happened between us," he swore. "All right? We're both dressed anyway."

"That doesn't mean nothing happened," she told him. "I believe you, but...I also don't know."

He buried his face in her shoulder and sighed. "She tried to make something happen," he confessed. "But it was just vulnerability. She had a rough day, and it's only going to get worse."

"So her attempts will get worse too?"

"No." This came Amy herself, who had woken up to Daryl's voice and decided to help him out after nearly screwing him over. "It won't happen again."

Daryl released Carol when she started to turn to face Amy, and he was grateful to have some backup. He didn't want to see Carol like this. He couldn't stand to have her hurting, to have her assuming the worst. He cared about her so much. It was killing him to see her like this. He had to set the record straight. It wasn't what she thought. It could have been, but he only had eyes for her. Amy was like blood to him, a little sister, even. He had to get that through to her. Somehow.

"I did try to kiss him. My goal was to have sex with him, but not because I'm attracted to him or am in love with him. I...was just in a low place, and I stooped even lower. Daryl's like a brother to me, and I tried to use him in the worst way. I can't apologize enough for that." She felt uneasy and embarrassed at two sets of sapphires on her, but she had to keep talking. She couldn't let Daryl's relationship fall to pieces simply because her life was in tatters. She loved him and owed him too much to let that happen. "I lost custody of my daughter last night. Someone...I used to trust told lies and planted evidence to get her taken away from me, and I broke. I called Daryl, and we tried to get her back, tried to assure the social worker she was in a safe environment, but all I got was a court date and drug tested. I couldn't go home alone, so Daryl offered to let me crash here. I...I just wanted to forget for a moment that I might lose my daughter forever, because some asshole didn't like that I ended our relationship. Daryl was being sweet, and...I just wanted to forget. I am so sorry."

Carol didn't say anything.

"He shut me down instantly, and he left the room. I don't even know when he came to bed, but nothing happened or ever will happen. I just want my daughter back, and...I need his help, but once that's done, I'll...keep my distance."

"No, you won't."

Amy shook her head. "I will. I promise."

"No, you won't, because I won't let you take his niece from him. He deserves to see her. She loves him, and he loves her."

Amy smiled a little. "I would never deprive Bri of a relationship with the only decent man in her life."

"Good."

"I'm still so sorry. And again I'm not interested or attracted to him at all. I only ever was attracted to his brother. Don't ask me how." She rubbed her arms and stepped back. "I'm going to get dressed and talk to my sister. Excuse me." She scurried back to the guest bedroom where her suitcase was.

Daryl looked over at Carol. "Bri had my phone when the social worker took her. I...I don't even have it anymore."

"If I wasn't in the picture...would you have had sex with her?"

"No. She's like a kid sister to me. She's like blood. I care about her, but not like that. She's been with Merle. I don't...mix with his women. Especially not Amy."

"Why not Amy?"

"'Cause she and Merle were a little more than sex. I think he...had feelings for her. He never admitted and made an ass out of himself, because that's how Merle is." He reached over and cupped her chin, brushing a tear aside. "And I only have eyes for you, Carol. I mean that. You're..."

She met his eyes as he struggled to confess his feelings, and she gripped his wrist, stroking it gently. "I know."

"No, you don't." He brought her closer by her cheek and set his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and hoping it gave him the strength to say these words. "Carol...you..." He inhaled sharply and opened his eyes. "You have my heart."

Tears sprung up in her eyes. "Daryl."

"Only you."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and embraced him, he held her tightly, and she couldn't stop her tears. Two days of so much emotional hell and torture, and she couldn't keep it all in anymore. She crumbled to the floor, Daryl picked her up and carried her back to his bed, sitting her in his lap and holding her. She didn't know if he knew this was more than this moment, but he held her and consoled her, and that was the world.

The same world that had cracked at the news Shane delivered. Without Rosita, she had no clue who she would become in this life. Rosita was the driving force of all Carol's confidence. She was the sister and friend Carol always wanted and later grew to need. She was this ray of sweet and spicy who loved so hard... And she wasn't there. She wasn't right there like always. She had been taken, and Carol couldn't save her. She was trying. She was looking for anything to try and bring her back, but there was nothing. All the clues were planted, it seemed, and it went in circles. She was dizzy from it all. She wanted it over. She wanted Rosita back to be perverted and adorable and relentlessly surprising.

Daryl's heart broke when Carol's sobs became wails, her entire body shaking, her tears soaking through his shirt, and there was nothing he could do but caress her. He wished he could take the pain away, but he didn't know what was causing it. God, if he could fix it... If he could just fix all of it...

Hours had passed, Carol's phone vibrated, and Daryl checked it, leaning on the archway to his room while she slept on his side of the bed, covered with his blankets. He saw it was a message from someone named Lilly, and he opened it to be sure it wasn't urgent.

 _We spoke to the family. I thought you should be aware. We've gotten pass into the buildings, too. I'll keep you updated, but rest, please. We'll bring Rosita home. We need you to do that_.

His head snapped up to her sleeping figure, and his mouth dried out. No wonder she was so upset. Fuck, he didn't know. There was no news coverage of this kidnapping, and he didn't have his phone to get her messages! Fuck, Carol, no wonder... Damn it, she needed him, and he wasn't there. He had abandoned her at this critical time, and he couldn't even— No. No, he had a valid reason, and he was there now. He would be there from this point onward, and they would get through this together.

Another text came through, and it wasn't from Lilly but an unknown number.

 _You still live that apartment complex with the shifty super?_

He frowned.

 _With that lesbo roommate? Will she be there? Because I am coming to see you, and I don't want her there._

 _Helloo? Answer me._

He scoffed and blocked the number, deleting the messages and hearing moaning. He set her phone down on his dresser and bent down beside the bed, setting his head on her head. She whined sleepily, her eyes swollen, and he kissed her eyelids.

She swallowed and opened her eyes. "What time is it?"

"About five."

"Did Lilly or Tara call?" She rubbed her mouth and found drool there. Ew.

"Lilly texted. They told Rosita's parents." He rubbed smeared makeup from her eye. "They'll be fine without you for another hour. I'll start a shower."

"I have to get back."

"And you will, but you need a shower and food. Probably somethin' light." He pushed hair from her head. "Or do you want somethin' heavy?"

"I'm not hungry." She studied his face, her eyes filling once more with tears. "I'm sorry."

"Hey, stop that." He scooted closer to her on the bed, searching her eyes and shaking his head. "What do you have to be sorry for? Nothing, so don't be sorry."

"She's gone." She wheezed. "And we don't have anything."

He wiped away her tears. "You'll find something."

"How?" It was a broken sound in her throat, and she whimpered.

"You will find him," Daryl imparted. "You all will. I know it. You're fuckin' amazing, and you'll get it done."

She twisted onto her back, gasping deeply and sputtering, covering her face with her hands.

"You will find her." He rubbed her stomach. "You all will."

She gasped an inhale and curled up, her body moving to face him, and he stroked her stomach with his thumb. She dropped her hands to the mattress, her lips parting to exhale, a bubble of saliva there, and it popped onto her lips and his sheets. Her lips trembled around her words, and he waited.

"...could I... I... I have some soup?" she managed.

He nodded. "My shirts are in the top drawer," he nodded to the dresser, "and my boxers oughta fit you too. Sorry she wore the plungers first. Guess she got clogged."

She stared at him and laughed softly, he smiled at her, and he kissed her cheek. The laughter loosened the thick wall on her lungs and broke the cries that burned her throat. It wasn't even funny, but she was rolling. Her eyes finally dried, a crusted mask left behind, and she coughed into her hand from the laughter.

She snuffled and sat up, he pointed to the two drawers on his way out, and she rubbed at the crud under her eye, smiling to herself and nodding. She would shower, eat and bring Rosita home. They would all help to bring her home.


	30. Where Flames Once Dance

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

They only found a couple cameras on the roofs of the neighboring buildings, all footage wiped and an connection to any IP address erased. They were posed there, a joke for him to laugh at, and Tara was ready to punch a dick in the head. It was maddening, like a cat with a laser light they couldn't touch, and it only worsened.

A week passed with no new evidence. Tyreese had to take Glenn and Aaraon off the case to help with a fresh murder case, apologizing to Tara, but she didn't look or speak to him. She walked out of the bullpen, and Carol went after her. She tried to talk to her about a theory she said, but Tara didn't want to hear it. She was going back to the crime scene.

The case went from lukewarm to ice cold within a matter of days, and as the second week morphed into the third, Tara received the worst type of news. It was a recovery case now, Lilly spoke with Boss about cadaver dogs, and Tara snapped immediately, throwing the report at Lilly.

"She isn't dead!" Tara shouted. "She's alive, and just because we can't find her doesn't mean this shit is acceptable!"

"Tara, I know—" Lilly attempted to speak.

"You don't know anything, you outdated, overconfident shrew! You work cold cases and know that person is dead, so this means little to you. This means the goddamn world to me. I know my girlfriend. She is alive. She's tough, not some box in the warehouse!"

"Oh, no." Kat saw Scotty entering the bullpen and focused on the file in front of her.

Lilly cut a look to Scotty and shook her head. "Tara, this isn't for now. It's...just something I have to consider."

"Fuck you. You don't have to consider anything but your stupid cop math! People aren't all numbers and estimations! She isn't. And you'd know that if you didn't bury yourself in the dead to feel a bit more alive."

"Hey!" Scotty snapped at her. "Cut it out. Lil knows what she's doin', Chambler."

"Oh, don't get me started on you." She whirled around. "Don't."

"If you yell at my wife again," Scotty threatened, "we'll get more than started. Do you hear me?"

"Enough." Lilly moved in between them. "I am your superior, Chambler. I let you stay on this case out of respect and because you kept a level head, but that is over. You're off the case. If you keep this up, you'll be suspended. And Scotty, don't threaten a fellow officer. Are we clear?"

Tara chuckled darkly. "How cute to make mean with him in front us then turn around and fuck him the night my girlfriend goes missing!"

"Ooh." Kat sucked air in through her teeth and tried to find the closest exit.

"Excuse me?" Lilly stared her down. "Do you want to repeat that for me?"

"This isn't your unit, Rush. You may be top shit in the cold unit, but not up here. You're losing your touch, and you're too scared to realize it. First female murder cop. Tssk. I used to look up to you, but now that I know you..." She ran her eyes over her. "It was a waste of my time."

"Tara, I'd think really hard about what you say next."

"Go fuck yourself, Rush." She walked out of the bullpen, dropping her gun and shield on Rosita's desk on her way without another word.

Lilly felt her emotions swelling in her eyes, and she headed into Tyreese's office to shake them off. Scotty went after her, telling the others to get back to work, and he closed the door. She was crying quietly, and he wrapped his arms around her, pressing a kiss into her arm. She didn't want his kiss or his arms, and she pushed him away carefully. She bowed her head and splayed her hands out on Tyreese's desk, tears rolling out of glacial hues, and Scotty jumped when she slammed a fist down onto the desk. She collapsed onto the floor, he moved to catch her, but she held a hand out to stop him. She wanted to be alone, and he understood that, so he did just that. He looked back as she dragged a shaky hand through her hair, the reality of this case too much. You work with ghosts long enough, you forget...some weren't ghosts and could be brought home.

While Scotty attempted to tend to Lilly, Tyreese went after Tara. He wasn't able to catch her elevator, so he took the stairs and barely managed to come out at the same time as her. He spotted her strolling out of the lobby, and he inhaled to steady his breathing.

"Tara." Tyreese called out, but she kept walking. "Tara!" He watched her walk further and further away, the sunlight streaming through the windows engulfing her silhouette, and she didn't once look back. "Chambler!"

– – –

Four weeks of Rosita being missing. Tara had vanished. Lilly and Tyreese marked the file as cold and sent it down to her unit to continue working it. No one watched them leave with the box of Rosita's life, and nobody spoke. It was an icy office without Tara and Rosita. Boss was more stern and curt, Aaron and Glenn heard rumors of them bringing in new detectives, and Carol stared at the picture of her and Tara and Rosita their first day in this office. All shiny and new and smiling. Now there they were. Two gone, one empty, and this pain...this hole...wasn't ever going to be filled.

"Good morning!"

Carol lifted her eyes and found Brian standing among them with a wide smile, and her eyes burned. She returned it as best she could and excused herself.

"Hey, Bry." Aaron handed him a copy of their latest crime. "Triple homicide. You're with me."

There was a shattering sound that caught their attention, the four men walked down the hall to find Carol on the floor with blood and glass and flowers in front of her, a card with her name on it soaking in red. They were more tansies, and they were tied together with Rosita's hair, and the blood...

"What the hell?" Aaron climbed over the mess and held Carol away from it. "You okay?"

"They were in my locker." She swallowed hard. "Tara's old locker." She'd been using it on and off for years when her lock decided to act out and refuse to open, and she'd kept a steady habit of using it since Tara walked out. Only she and Tara knew the combo, so... how? And why...?

"God damn it!" Glenn slammed a fist into the lockers, and he seethed. "I am so over this! If you can hear me, you fucking coward—"

"Glenn!" Tyreese cut him off.

"Tara's gone!" Glenn whirled around to face him. "Rosita... Rosita is gone, too, and he's just playing with us! Don't expect me to sit back after _four_ weeks of following orders that left us not only with a still missing Rosita but also lost us Tara. Don't start with me."

"We can reopen the case," Tyreese informed them. "It's what he wants."

"It makes sense." Brian nodded his head. "You stopped investigating him after he declared war on you. You stopped looking for Rosita, and that is both rude and unsuitable. He went through so much to take her from you all, and this is it? It's sad."

"Thanks, Bry." Glenn glared. "Go hug a tree."

He smiled. "I'm disappointed in you all. That fire is just gone. You were such a team, and I'm with our doer. You all suck. To let this destroy you? To let some rules stop you from looking for her? For them, at this point. I mean, what kind of family does that?" They all exchanged looks like they had been told off by their teacher, and Brian inhaled deeply. "See, Wheat Boy has a point."

"How'd you know about that?" Aaron almost laughed.

"I hear like a bat, and Ms. Chambler is many things but soft-spoken." He slipped his hands into his pockets. "You can still best him. He's becoming irritated with you. He's going to slip up and make mistakes. I know it doesn't seem like it, but it's the truth. He is human, and look at yourselves right now. He's the same, only with more rage and homicidal urges. So...who wants to find this fucker? It's been long enough."

Carol smiled slowly. "Who sent you?"

"You know who sent me." He smirked. "Now, let's get this deal with and look for prints. I'll have Rush sent me the copies of her file. I don't do bleak, so chin up. You have fresh eyes and one hell of a powerhouse here to help you."

"Powerhouse...?" Glenn eyed him.

He pulled a flash drive out of his pocket. "Tara sends her regards."

"Tara." Carol smiled. "You've seen her?"

"I put her on paid leave for this." He looked around at them. "Yeah, I'm not on the same level as you all, but I like to help out no matter what shield I carry. I'm due some lost hours, so you'll work this on the side while I give it my full focus. I'm great with connections and boring clues. Trust me."

"You kinda had me at Tara." Aaron admitted. "Cool speech, though."

"Very powerful." Glenn chuckled and held his bleeding hand. "I need first aid, by the way."

Tyreese laughed. "Oh, God, you kids."

"Aaron, help Glenn, and Carol, come with me. Tara went digging, and Shane has some theories. You know him, right?"

Carol nodded. "Yeah, I know him."

"Great. Let's go."

"Yeah..." She cut a look to Aaron, and he patted her back.

––

Carol and Brain entered a nightclub, Shane was sitting at a table with a couple women, and he cocked his head to the side when Carol drew closer. A slow smile crossed his handsome face, and a hand pushed his face and his grin away, and Carol ran over to the table. Tara smiled back at her and embraced her tightly. They fell back into the booth, Shane didn't even hide the jealousy, and Brian grinned at this happy gift.

"You're okay." Carol held her face and looked her over. "You're okay."

" _You're_ okay." Tara laughed. "I was worried. I had to...go back under for more information, and Brian caught me."

"She was sassing a John." He chuckled. "Kinda stood out for a whore."

"Thank you. That is so sweet." Tara sat down by Shane and used his shoulder as an arm rest. "This dude helped me out."

"Wait, wait. You pimped yourself out for Rosita?" Carol's heart oddly warmed at the gesture. "That's so beautiful and awful all at the same time."

"I know. These heels are a bitch." She exhaled and smiled at Shane. "Well, speak, dude."

"I'm not your dude." He removed her arm. "I also have to be careful here. I'm still under."

"Still. Again. Always." Tara nudged him. "I got you if you make good on this."

"It's for Rosita, so yeah, it's good." He licked his lips and ran his eyes over Carol before speaking. "There's this real bland ass guy who's been movin' in big circles. He deals with drugs, guns, flesh, but he doesn't do anything with it. He doesn't build on it, you know? It's not like our guys. He doesn't need 'em. He just has 'em."

Tara shifted in her seat, and Carol grasped her hand. She gripped it tightly. "You saw him?"

"Couple times, yeah. He's...so plain, easy to forget and able to move through the world unnoticed. He's good, too. He destroyed my guy's business in a couple days, and he...leaves, like, flowers everywhere. It's weird, but Tara told me about their meaning. He's seriously tryin' to start a war down here, and it's working."

"Why would he want that?" Carol inquired.

"Why wouldn't he want that? It's pure chaos. The cops will be busy tryin' to stop fire fights in the streets, and no one can keep up the peace. He's been testing it out in small gangs. We're down to five now."

"That's good, though, right?" Carol tucked hair behind her ear. "For you, I mean. You can get out."

He shook his head. "If I leave...they'll know I was dirty, or think I was with this egghead. I have to stay."

"But if he's escalating," Carol argued.

He smirked at her. "What, you care about me, Peletier?"

"Of course I do, dumbass. You need to get out."

He chuckled. "I'd love to, babe, but alas I can't. We're stuck in deep right now, and if I want to get her out safe, I have to play."

"You're in danger?" Carol looked at Tara. "How much?"

"Oh, not me. They didn't want me." She looked around and spotted Shane's partner. "Her."

A completely gorgeous Amazon goddess was working a pole, shaking her hips and her piercing onyx eyes. She was magnificent, and Tara low key drooled over her too. She was a total goddess. Like wow. She could turn 'em all. Just walk by, girl.

"Mich!" Shane called. "C'mere."

She sauntered over to them, moving her dreads over her shoulder, hands on her hips, and Carol had new respect for rubber. "These your guys?"

"Yeah, guys, this is Michonne."

Carol gasped at how familiar her voice was, eyes widening, and she was suddenly dizzy. This was the woman she heard in the background of those calls, and please she was _never_ with Shane. That means... something she didn't want to think about.

"I tried to be the dancer," Shane stated. "And her the lead, but...she wore the thong better."

She smacked the back of his head lightly. "Get serious. We have a major player two tables down. Break this up." She looked over Tara's outfit. "Go entertain that man over there. He's one of us."

"Have I mentioned that I _love_ my job lately?" She spoke through a clenched smile and griped the entire way over to this person.

"And you need to lose all of that." She glanced around. "You look like a cop. Come with me."

"Wait—" Carol was yanked off her feet and pushed towards the back.

"Brian, get out of here. They know you. We got this."

He nodded. "Keep an eye on 'em."

"Who else is?" She smirked and guided Carol to the back, finding a perfect outfit. "You'll be his girl, so here. He likes this."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Carol waved her hands to stop Michonne from grabbing anything. "No, no."

"Do you realize how dangerous this is? I don't care what your relationship is like. If you don't act, you will die. Tara will die. I will die. Shane, too." Her eyes were wide and pressing, and Carol's heart dropped. "I lost four friends in a week. Do not become one of them."

"I didn't know." She lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you." She inhaled deep. "Throw those in the bio hazard bin. I keep my clothes in there too."

"But do I have to wear this?" She held up the blue sheer...thing. It looked like a one piece swim suit but see through and with long sleeves.

"Carol, look at me." She waved a hand over her outfit. "I haven't worn pants in a seven months. Deal with it."

"Okay." She looked down at the items and changed into them. She had to remove her bra and panties, changing into the sheer suit—that Michonne had to help her get into—and she shimmied on the matching white leather crop top and hipster bottoms. They were so many straps. She felt like she was in a sexy straitjacket.

"Heels or boots?" Michonne gestured to her options. "These are new, so don't worry."

Carol gaped. "Those are...eight hundred bucks. I stare at them all the time when I shop with anyone."

"Well, dreams can come true, I suppose. I'll do your makeup."

She zipped into the over-the-knee leather trim black boots and let Michonne make her look...like a show girl. She sat there while Michonne did her hair and makeup, and she smiled at her handiwork. Carol couldn't look at herself, because it wasn't her. She had to be someone else who wasn't a cop, wasn't looking for her fellow cop with cops.

They walked out together, a man ran his eyes over Carol, and Michonne escorted her over to Shane. They had a moment of eye contact, and Shane spotted Negan eyeing Carol. He cursed, Michonne nodded, and Carol was left with no answers. Among other things. God, this outfit... Man.

"You need to smile." Shane ordered some drinks. "Put your arm around me."

"I hate you."

"Well, right now you love me, and we're drinking." He spoke through his teeth, pulling her crossed legs over his knee and rubbing circles into her thigh. "If he decides he wants you, you're in deep shit."

She repressed an eye roll and looped her arm over his. "Who is he?"

He played with her hair and leaned down to whisper. "Giggle." She complied, tilting her head back, and he glanced at Negan once more. "He's the head of everything. He's...like walking death, too. If he wants you, you're his. You fight...you never even existed. And not just you—anyone you love. He always find them, and it's...horrible. There's nothin' left to identify."

"Wait, does that mean... he could find Daryl?" She met his eyes, and Shane averted his eyes. "Oh, my God, Shane."

"I'm sorry, but you want Rosita back?"

"Of course I do."

"Then it's worth the risk." He exhaled. "I didn't want you in this. This is why I broke up with you, and fuckin' what? Six, seven months later you're in it? I'm sorry."

"You're scaring me."

"Good. You should be, but never outwardly scared." He caught her chin. "You hear me? Never outwardly."

She nodded.

"I'm sorry, but kiss me like you mean it."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, moving her legs off his knees. She tried to relax, but it felt like glass in her lungs. She had wanted this for so long months ago, and now her body belonged to someone else who she really cared for. He cared about her, but she was here. Confused and here, and she had to play. She had to. She hated undercover work.

He slid his hand down her body, securing her leg before yanking her onto his lap in a smooth, swift motion, and she smiled against his lips, remembering how he used to do that when they made out on the couch. He brought her closer, whispering nothing important, and she stuck her tongue out at him. He smirked and devoured it and her lips, grasping the back of her neck and rocking her on his lap.

She gripped his jacket and groaned, pulling back and gasping softly at the feel of this outfit against his. She closed her eyes and shook her head, and he stopped. He had some old habits to break, and this was one of them apparently. He didn't know it would happen like this, but there was a line. He had to respect it.

"You like that?" he loudly purred.

She covered his mouth with her fingers and faked a moan, squeezing her eyes shut to try and cool off her body. "Shut up." She couldn't hear him right now without trying to laugh. He chuckled and began to suck on her fingers, another face flitted into her mind, and she smiled softly, rearing up and thankfully saying no name at all. Second grade cop, world class actor. This performance was brought to you by Henry from high school.

Shane kissed her cheek. "That was hot."

"Kind of the point, isn't it?" She bit her bottom lip. "Okay, now I get it."

He laughed. "The outfit? It's a good fit."

"Thanks. I still hate it." She rested her chin on his shoulder. "I hate this."

"You sure about that?" He spotted a couple guys coming his way. "Okay, so...suck my neck. Don't talk at all."

"I can just sit here."

"Yes, but the me they know me to be wouldn't have you just sit here."

She adjusted her hips, lifting herself up and tugging on one of the straps to draw some eyes to her leather-bound ass. She lowered herself onto his lap and placed kisses on his neck, focusing on their conversation. She grasped strands of his hair, biting onto his neck, and he pinched her.

"Vocal one you got there." He ran his eyes over her. "Damn. You always get the good ones."

"Just my luck." He grasped her thigh, and she rolled her eyes. "What's going on?"

"You're a busy man. We'll cut to the chase." He cleared his throat. "We need the movers dead. The four news ones."

Shane inhaled calmly and nodded. "When?"

"Two hours."

He laughed at him then smacked Carol's ass hard enough to jolt her, holding onto it like it was piece of meat, and for now it was. This meat would bite back, though—later. "You see this right here? I'm gonna fuck it for an hour then the front for an hour. I don't have time to deal with pissants. I handled the last batch. Man the fuck up, you little pussy."

He scoffed. "You think Negan is gonna—"

He shoved Carol off of him, she barely caught herself on the booth, and he grabbed the man by the shirt. "I know what Negan is gonna do and not gonna do, but do you know what I'm going to do?" He pulled a gun from his waistband, and Carol tensed.

"You won't—not in this crowd."

"Try me." He held it to his head, cocking the gun, and there was no sign of backing down. "You already put me in a bad mood."

"Shane!" Carol shot up. "Don't!"

Shane head butted him and shot him in the leg, Carol immediately went to aid him, but Shane hauled her up and over his shoulder. "You bother us, and it's the head next." He carried her away and upstairs to his room, dropping her on the bed. "What the fuck was that?!"

"You were going to kill him!" She sat up. "What the fuck was that?!"

"Did you not hear me? Don't speak! You don't get to speak, not here."

"I had to! You're not...yourself, Shane. You were going to murder him, okay? Actually murder that man. I know he isn't a good guy, but you are."

"No, Carol, I'm not. I'm just not anymore."

"Yes, you are." She stood up and searched his eyes. "You're only pretending you're not."

He chuckled. "Close your mouth and spread your legs." She slapped him, and he blinked, grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer to whisper in her ear. "It's bugged, asshole."

"Oh." She blushed.

"Let me get you outta that." He set the gun down and sighed. "Damn shame, you look...sexy as hell."

She rolled her eyes and turned around. "Use your teeth and unwrap me if you want to see sexy."

He unzipped the top, she moaned at the feel of it releasing her breasts like a bra, and she was reminded she had no bra on then. "You like that?" He dropped it onto the floor and removed his own over shirt, wrapping an arm around her waist. Once she was out of this, she could borrow his shirt till he found something for her.

"Yes, but not this."

"Too bad." He unzipped the bottoms and just tore through the sheer. "God, you're beautiful."

"Shane..." She was surprised by the amorous kiss he gave her, and she forgot for a moment she didn't have to respond, but there was something there that told her she should. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, he grasped her hip and lifted her up and onto the bed, his body pushing her into it. He parted her lips, coaxing his tongue into her mouth, and the door opened. He didn't bother to acknowledge it until his jacket was thrown over his head.

"Hey!" He jerked around, finding Negan standing there. "Oh, it's you. I'm a little busy."

He tilted his head to the side and smirked. "Well, you're a smart man. You can fuck and listen at the same time, right?"

Carol's heart stopped. Okay, kissing was one thing. It was just an act, and it didn't mean anything. She could tell Daryl and be okay with it. Having full on sex with her ex-boyfriend while his mob boss watched wasn't. She couldn't tell Daryl that and expect him to understand. She didn't expect him to understand the kissing, but it wasn't as huge as sex. Sex with her ex-boyfriend. Sex with a man...she'd already kissed once before in their relationship and didn't tell him instantly about it. Sex with a man who was already blurring lines in her mind. She couldn't do this. didn't want Shane like that anymore. She didn't want to pretend anymore.

Shane stroked her thigh, and Carol was about to take that gun and shove it up his ass. "I can, but it's gonna get loud." He brushed a finger across the mesh between her thighs, and she was definitely going to kill him. "We'll talk first."

Carol sat up on the bed and tried not to cover herself. She was naked pretty much at this point, but at least she wasn't forced to screw her ex in front of creepy ass motherfucker.

"Are you sure? I could use the entertainment. I have a ball gag."

 _Oh, crap._ Carol cut a look at Shane. _Oh, crap!_

He chuckled. "Maybe next time."

"Suit yourself." He turned and waited by the door. "Don't forget to say goodbye. A long one, I should think, considering how I'm taking you away at _this_ moment."

"C'mere, baby." Shane pulled her right up against him on the best, no words were needed, and he claimed her mouth hard. He reached down between her thighs once more—not touching her in any way once out Negan's line of sight—and she forced a moan, digging her nails into his scalp, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. He slid his tongue into her mouth, she opened her eyes to find Negan watching very closely, and she parted her lips from his so their onlooker could visibly see Carol taking in his tongue. Shane moaned and lifted her off the bed, she smirked against his mouth and closed her eyes once more. This went on for about five more minutes before Shane finally set her down.

"There's some toys in the drawer. Keep yourself wet for me, gorgeous." He smirked and kissed her once more, savoring her lips, and he gently touched her cheek, whispering, "God I love you", before leaving with Negan.

She wiped her hand on the back of her mouth then flipped off the closed door. She went over to the drawers and found some...interesting toys and wondered if he used them at all. They did experiment in bed, but nothing with nipple clamps or anal beads (?!). She could tell they were all unused like the lovely aforementioned ball gag, and she picked up a butt plug with a tail attached. She rolled her eyes and heard the door open.

Shane smirked at her. "Need a hand puttin' that in?"

She was about to tell him to plug it up his own ass when she spotted more men behind him. She only smiled and set it down.

"God, you tease me." He approached her. "We have to take a drive. I'm sorry."

"A drive?" She sounded upset, and she was. She didn't want to be stuck here. "Where?"

"Just business." He caught her chin. "Why don't you meet me at my place? We can rattle a real headboard."

"I suppose." She looked over to view in the inside drawer. "But...if I'm going to be waiting for you, I want you ready."

He eyed her. "I..always am, babe."

She waved a finger over the beads. "But you'll really be ready with these."

He smirked. "You devil."

"I can even insert it."

"I'll bet." He closed the drawer, and she was laughing softly. "Find Mich and a tight little outfit." He grasped her hips and tenderly pulled her against him, kissing her neck and nibbling twice. She tilted her head back, eyes closing, and he sucked along her throat. He could hear the guys complaining, and but he didn't listen. When they were dating, he wanted a casual way to let her know something, and somewhere in the glow of some seriously hot sex, they came up with this.

"This better be quick," Shane snapped at them, searching her eyes for understanding once she lowered her head, and she smiled seductively at him, kissing below his ear, whispering. He chuckled and released her, taking his gun on his way out, smacking lightly one of the younger men in the group on the cheek who was still staring at Carol. "I'll take 'em out, Jackie."

She smiled and crossed her arms, watching them leave before she ran over to the closet. She bent down and looked over the black duffel bag, finding the zipper and yanking it open. It was completely loaded with guns and knives and smoke bombs. She ran her fingers over them, finding a thin, long knife sheathed at the bottom. She slid it into her boot and grabbed one of his shirts to cover herself.

She buttoned it up and felt hands on her waist. She knew by the hands it wasn't Shane. They were too big, and she had to resist the urge to slam her elbow into his face, but she stayed calm until he jerked her back against his erection. She looked over her shoulder and found Negan was the one holding her. She wasn't going to be his victim. She just wasn't. She was already over making out with her ex and bringing up memories and old feelings. She wasn't going to continue to be passed around like a goddamn gravy boat at Thanksgiving.

"I don't play with his toys," Negan informed her, his mouth by her ear. "I break them."

She smirked. "I'm not his to be played with or broken."

"I know." He slid his hand around and down, grabbing her firmly by her sex, and she reached for the knife. "You're not his whore. You smell like a pig, but it's fine. You'll fuck the same."

"Do you think I'll let you?"

He chuckled. "I think you will." He pressed his dick into her ass. "Who wouldn't want that?"

She grabbed the knife and held it against his hand over her hand between her thighs. "I don't hesitate."

"You're in my house," he reminded her, swaying her body back against his, holding onto her crotch harder, and she winced. "I don't mind a little blood, but if you do that, I'll take that blood right back from your boy."

She tensed. "Leave him out of this."

"I can't. He brought a goddamn pig into my home, and I'm starting to wonder if you have more in common with him then riding his dick." He saw her eyes close, and he chuckled. "Carol Peletier of the PPD. Damn they make you so right these days."

"I'll do whatever you want me to do," Carol spoke through clenched teeth, "but leave him out of this."

"The open your legs so I can get this sweet pussy."

"Your word." She pressed the knife into his hand, and he inhaled deeply, smelling her skin and hair, and she moistened her lips. "And tell me who the floater is."

He whipped her around, she lost her grip on the knife, and he slammed her against the wall, his hand closing around her throat and keeping her still. "Who told you about the floater?"

"It's why I'm here."

"So, you're not here for big, bad ol' me?" He bit his bottom lip. "Mmm, I'm going to make a meal out of you, baby."

"Tell me who he is!" Carol demanded, his hand tightening on her throat, and she dug her nails into his wrist.

"Don't know his name, but he has warehouses in my town." He undid his belt slowly, eyes trained on her face. "The white one has quite a surprise in it. You'll find out what surprise when I leave you there, fucked, satisfied and very, very broken." He removed his hand and traded it for his belt, yanking it tight around her pretty little throat, and he unzipped his jeans.

Her vision began to fade at how little space there was between the leather of his belt and her throat, her airway was constricting, and he began to blur. She felt hot pain at her hip, blood running down onto her thigh, and the mesh that covered her lower body fell away. She didn't have room for panic as the world blurred out.

There was a new sound in the room, Carol fell over unconscious, Negan jolted from the gunshot to his shoulder, and Tara closed the space between them, the silencer pressed against his shoulder blade. She had him move away from Carol, ensuring he didn't see her face, and she knocked him over the head.

She twisted the silencer off and tucked it into her boot, the gun in the waistband of her jeans, and undid the belt on Carol's throat, tenderly massaging her airway, and she croaked out a wheeze breathe. She smiled.

"That's my girl. Breath, come on." She slid her arm around her and hauled her up. "We're leaving. I got you."

Tara guided her out of the club, Michonne and Leo were waiting for her by a limo, and they all hurried inside. Leo pulled out of the parking lot, Tara made sure no one was following them, and Michonne cleaned the deep cut on Carol's hip. Then she and Tara removed the bloody mesh around the wound completely, Tara put some panties on her, and they shimmed on jeans. Michonne removed her own heels and pulled her phone out to check in on Shane while Tara held Carol on the floor of the limo.

They dropped the limo off in Kensington be stripped for parts, Leo carried Carol in his arms, and Michonne took point on the way to the safe house. Tara hadn't seen Brian since she had to shake her ass for Leo, but she hoped he was okay. Shane was okay. He had to be okay, even if he hadn't gotten back to them. He would be at the safe house. He would be roughed up, sure, but he would be okay. He had to be, or she was going back to put one between that motherfucker's eyes.

Michonne led them to a deli, nodding to the man behind the counter who handed her a brown food bag, and Tara and Leo exchanged a look when Michonne lead them to the drinks. She reached behind a cooler of really nasty ass tasting beer and any reject drink, opening it to reveal a staircase. Tara and Leo both were impressed, and they all hurried inside.

"I'm going to contact HQ and let Ty know we're in deep." Michonne had changed out of her rubber and glitter and into her suit, still looking like a damn model. "Try and raise Shane, Leo."

He placed Carol down on the chaise lounger and pulled his phone out, heading into the next room to make a call.

"Make sure she's okay." Michonne ran her eyes over Carol. "Negan isn't gentle with anybody."

"Especially pigs." She clenched her jaw and sent a glare to Michonne now that they were safe and out of his reach. "He touched her, almost raped her, you know that. I know that. You owe her."

"She knew the risks." She lowered her phone. "We needed that information to help Rosita, remember? And he didn't. Almost isn't did. She's been undercover before. I know how rough she had it then, and this was nothing like that."

"She willingly went undercover back then, but this? She didn't ask for this."

"No one does, but we have bigger items on our plate. I need backup and to find Walsh, and you need to make sure she's okay. I won't apologize for getting information to save Rosita, but if you want me to apologize for another person's actions, I can try once. It just doesn't mean anything."

She sighed. "I'm sorry. You just don't know how good her life was before all of this, and it's all muddled now."

"Hey, he didn't do anything to her that won't either heal or help us bust his ass." She began to dial Shane's number. "We already had a strong case, Chambler. Don't forget that."

She walked over to Carol, nearly tripping in her hooker heels, and she removed them, letting them stay where they dropped. She knelt down beside the chaise, seeing the light dusting of bruising on her neck and...hickies. She rolled her eyes at Shane's overeager acting, and she found herself smiling. She owed that jerk big time. He tipped them off to this, ensured Carol wasn't left alone against a mob boss, and he was going to help them bring Rosita home. He had to live so she could thank him. He had to live so she could also smack him. He was way too into using Carol's body for this little trick. Ass munch.

She looked her over thoroughly before changing out of her outfit. She dumped it in the trash and vowed to never talk about the cowboy boots and all the tassels. She felt hot, but it wasn't her. It wouldn't be again, because someone men thought they could just touch her, and she broke a couple fingers. Michonne had her work exclusively with Leo then after the fourth broken finger, and Michonne shook her head at her. She was playing a part, but she didn't have to play their pet, too. She refused. Her ass was bruised from all the slaps, so fuck them.

Carol woke up around midnight, Tara was by her side and smiled at her brightly, and Carol looked herself over. She frowned at the new clothes over her old outfit and winced at the pain in her hip, and Tara told her to take it slow. She helped her sit up, Carol touched her neck, and Tara assured her it would heal.

"Where's Shane?" She lowered her hand and swallowed, seeing Tara lower her eyes. "What?"

"We've been trying to raise him for hours." Michonne joined them, sitting on the chaise beside Carol. "And Tyreese. No one is answering. We had to scramble the signal so Negan can't track it."

"But Shane?" she repeated.

"He went out with Negan's disposal group." She lowered her eyes. "All fifteen of them. They are very good at disposing bodies."

She whimpered and shook her head. "No."

"I'm sorry." Michonne's voice broke, her lips quivering, and she cleared her throat. "I really am."

Carol thought back to that last kiss, her stomach clenching, and she realized he called her baby. He called her that all the time when they were dating, and that kiss... She scrambled to her feet and hurried over to the trash can by the island, throwing up everything inside of her at this horrifying realization. He wasn't acting at all when he kissed her. He meant it. He meant all of it, because he was to going die.

––

Michonne and Tara were going over their stock of weapons the next morning. They were cut off from their backup, so they had to get Rosita themselves, and Michonne used her knowledge to narrow it down to five warehouses Negan had. The white one was a red herring. They grew new strains of pot there, and the others housed meth labs or flesh or guns. She wasn't interested in them, but she had her eye on the green warehouse. She hadn't seen it before, and there was heavy talk about the new guy and that warehouse. Rosita had to be there if the others were empty. It was so close to the clubhouse. Negan and his women stayed here. To have so close to him was immensely hazardous and brilliant. If you want to hide a cop, hide her with her enemies. Nobody would touch Negan or his land. It was a death sentence. So hide her in plain sight and wait for the news to blow over... Smart little worm.

Carol held onto Shane's favorite handgun, seeing it was clean and pristine and wouldn't miss if she aimed just right. She could almost feel his hand on the grip, and she closed her eyes.

" _Hey, baby." He grinned at her, entering her booth at the range and slipping his hands into the front pockets of her jeans. "Did I ever tell you how hot I get watchin' you wield my gun?"_

 _She rolled her eyes and fired another shot at the target, aiming down South, and Shane chuckled._

" _That's just cold."_

" _I'm not here to turn anyone on, Shane, and you should know better than to try this again." She reloaded and turned to face him. "I'm not going out with you."_

" _You'd like it." He smiled at her. "I'd like it."_

" _No. I just broke up with Cal, and I don't want to dive into anything."_

" _Then how about you use me for my body?" He smile became a smirk, and she rolled her eyes again. "Or you can just roll your eyes at me and ignore my entire existence. It's how we do it now."_

" _Do I sense annoyance?" She set his gun down and placed her hands on her hips. "We're just friends, Shane. I don't owe you anything."_

" _I know you don't, and I'm not making any moves. Yet, but I will. I don't just want to fuck you, Carol. I'm sure it's great, but I want an actual relationship with you. Stop pushing Cal off on me. You always have."_

" _He's your friend!"_

" _And he's an asshole!"_

" _You're an asshole!"_

" _Okay, so I am, but you won't find me going down on some bitch in our bed ten minutes after you leave for work." He searched her eyes. "I know you want to jumble us all up together, because one guy hurt you, but I'm not that guy. I won't hurt you. Just give me a chance. I know you were interested."_

" _Yeah, I was. Now I'm not, and I have to work on my aim. Captain sent here to learn, not flirt, so if you want your gun back—take it. It needs cleaned anyway."_

" _Let me prove it to you." He searched her eyes. "Just once. Then I'll be out of your hair, and I'll go back to my sad life at vice."_

" _What, you'll kiss me and that's it? I fall in love, we get married, and I have your kids?" Her mouth dried out as he stepped closer. "You just fill me with babies, and that's it? Happily ever after."_

" _No, nothin' about us will ever be "that's it"." He swallowed hard. "You make me nervous, Peletier. Like my skin is just...buzzing right now, and I feel like I'm thirteen all over again. You steal my air when you walk into a room. It's like all the color fades out, and I... God, is that just me? Is this all just me?"_

 _She ran her tongue over her teeth and exhaled. "And if you were?"_

" _Then I gotta ask why you hate me so much."_

" _Because you...make me nervous." She wrapped her arms over herself. "You... look at me with the same smile you give a hundred girls, and I'll be warm all over like...like I was the only one you saw, but it's not. You aren't mine, Shane. I know you're not, even if you think you are, and I don't want to go there and lose you. I can't."_

" _I don't give anyone else this smile or...want to give anyone else anything. What I want is you."_

" _But want doesn't make a relationship; it just messes up my bed." She shook her head. "I have to go."_

" _You're just gonna sum me all up like that and leave? I don't get to defend myself?"_

" _How could you possibly defend yourself?"_

 _He closed the space between them, Carol shifted her weight when he was only inches from her, and he gently unfolded her arms and set them on his shoulders before placing his hands on her hips. She pulled him in and kissed him before he could have a chance, and her lips tingled against his. She tightened her arms on his neck, holding the back of his head, and she felt her back touch the divider behind her._

 _Her lips smiled against his, parting and taking in his tongue. She moaned and felt her body reacting wonderfully to his hungry kisses. She lost track of how many kisses exactly, her body aching at how much he wanted her, and she had forgotten how much she liked to be kissed and kissed well. Cal was more interested in his own needs, and he rarely kissed her, certainly never liked this. He was never this good with his tongue, either. God damn, how could he be so rough and still so tender?_

 _His hands pushed her hips to his, she chuckled into his mouth and pressed against him. He broke their kiss to try and breathe, she smirked at him, and he felt that smirk in the pit of his stomach. She was delicately cruel, and he didn't expect that, but fuck. He tried to kiss her again, but she wouldn't let him kiss her for very long, and he groaned. So damn cruel._

 _He then felt her knuckles brush by his happy trail, he moaned when she stroked him through his boxers, and he chuckled softly. Damn, she was good. "You ain't shy, are you?"_

" _I haven't had good sex in months." She secured her leg on his hip. "I'm sorry if it seems like I'm using you, but I need this."_

 _He kissed her. "You have no idea how okay I am with this, baby." He undid her jeans. "But you sure about bein' here?"_

" _I'm sure." The thought of being caught made her horny, and she needed release. She'd deal with the consequences later, but for now, she wanted to be fucked and fucked well. "Why, are you shy?"_

 _He laughed at that. "Not at all." He jerked her jeans down, she minded her flip flops and stepped out of them. He pulled his own pants down, but she jumped him, and he caught her, accepting her kiss. He fell back against the divider at her taking him, and she moaned, her eyes falling shut, fingers gripping his hoodie._

 _And they proceeded to damage the fuck out of that booth. No one else came into shoot, but Carol was very away of the camera angled on them. She was covered by Shane's body, so she wasn't worried, and she didn't care if they were being watched. At least no one interrupted._

 _For over an hour nobody interrupted them, Carol and Shane were both naked and panting by that time, laughing and kissing each other. She had known him for so long, so she felt comfortable not using a condom, and she knew her prescription well enough to know nothing was getting through. He paled when she mentioned that, because he'd forgotten about that entirely._

 _She kissed him once more and began to dress._

" _What, you done with me now?" He watched her slide her panties up over her thighs._

" _I am." She found her bra and looked for her shirt while she fastened it. "But thank you. That was fun."_

 _He frowned while she dressed and found her lost flip flop, and he stood up, pulling on his boxers. "Thank you?"_

" _Hmm?" She buttoned her jeans and met his eyes. "What?"_

" _That didn't mean anything else to you?"_

" _No, it meant a lot. I'm a little sore." She smiled. "You have a nice girth."_

" _Gee, thanks."_

" _Are you pouting?" She laughed. "Shane, did you really think—?"_

" _After that second time, yeah, I did think!" He put on his jeans in the most grumpy manner, and he felt like a baby doing it._

" _Well, good." She crossed her arms and smiled at him. "Take me to dinner tomorrow night."_

" _What?" He was just confused._

" _People tend to go out on dates to begin a relationship." She was trying not to laugh, and he stared at her. She did laugh then. "Shane, I'm not the type of girl who gets off in a gross shooting range if I don't want more. You paid more attention to my needs than yours just now, and I do like you."_

" _Seriously?" He returned her smile. "You'll go out with me?"_

" _I will go out with you." She closed the space between them and kissed him, arms around his waist. "But we aren't doing this until a few more dates."_

" _Seriously?" He groaned._

" _Seriously." She kissed him softly. "But don't worry, I definitely want to do that again. In a bed next time. We can rattle a real headboard."_

 _He chuckled. "Break it, maybe." He set a hand on her cheek. "You're amazing."_

" _You're not so bad yourself." She heard the door open. "Run."_

" _What?"_

" _Run!" She grabbed his gun and ran by the owner at top speed, and Shane came after her about ten seconds later. She could hear yelling, and she laughed, running to her car across the parking lot, and she looked back at Shane, who was at his car still half dressed. She winked at him and got into the car, setting the gun back in it case and pulling the keys off the loop of her jeans._

 _She looked over and found him by her window, she rolled it down, and he leaned in, kissing her tenderly. His hands came to rest on her cheeks, the feather light kisses to her mouth causing her heart to flutter, and she gripped one of his hands on her cheeks._

" _I'll pick you up at seven."_

" _He's going to kill you." She saw the owner by the door. "You ruined his floor."_

" _I'll do it again if you're with me."_

" _You know..." She reached out and looped her fingers through his jeans, pulling him closer. "We can just go back to your place and ruin something else."_

" _No." He shook his head. "I wanna have sex with my girlfriend next time. Dinner's at seven tonight."_

 _She smiled and kissed him once more. "I'm going home to shower then."_

 _He smirked. "Wear a dress tonight."_

" _Why? Are you taking me somewhere nice?"_

" _Yeah." He waved to the owner to let him know he'd talk to him. "And I want easy access."_

" _We're not having sex on the first date."_

" _I know." He grinned. "That boy didn't treat you right at all, so I got some makin' up to do."_

 _Her body clenched, and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip, and he chuckled._

" _See how you quiet you can be when you gotta be."_

" _That's cocky. You couldn't even undo my bra."_

" _Then show me how you like it. I know your nails ain't long, so you know yourself well. Show me tonight, so I can get acquainted." He kissed her once more. "I'm gonna go make amends, get my favorite hoodie back."_

" _Yeah, I don't want to go back in there. You know he watched."_

" _Maybe I can get a copy of it." He wiggled his eyebrows._

" _Have him delete it, please."_

" _I know." He stepped back. "See you at seven."_

––

She didn't expect so much to come from what was meant to be release, but he did keep his word that night. He removed her panties in the car, and she came about three and a half times during dinner. The waiter ruined the last one, and Shane's friends decided to join them. Cal was one of them, and Shane worked for the other two over dessert. Cal asked what was wrong with her after the second time, and Shane licked his fingers suggestively. Cal got so pissed, and Carol rolled her eyes at him. They stopped being friends that night, and Rick just...awkwardly excused himself, double checking to be sure the hand Rick shook early hadn't been...used in their activities. Shane pretended to not be sure, and Rick almost killed him. It was a very exciting first date, and Carol knew she was in for an interesting relationship with a hot sex life. She hadn't been wrong.

She turned his gun over and rubbed her hand under her nose, setting a hand on her stomach, trying not to cry. First she lost his baby, and now he was gone, too.

"Leo." Michonne heard the walkie crackle. "What are you doing?"

Carol looked up when he stepped out of the bedroom. "What's that?"

There was something coming through the radio, Michonne took it from him and tried to clean up the feedback, and there they heard the repeated word amethyst. Michonne smiled widely and met Carol's eyes, and Carol didn't understand that it was a code word until the voice came in clearer.

" _Amethyst... Amethyst... Amethyst..."_

"Shane." She wheezed.

" _Amethyst..."_


	31. Now Ashes Remain

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot._**

––

It was hot, humid, and it smelled of rich earth. It dug under her nails, stained onto her dress, and it tangled in her hair. Rich, humid earth. It filled her nose, drifting down her throat to expand throughout her lungs, and the humidity choked her. She choked, a searing heat in the back of her throat, and she gasped deeply, the process repeating itself, and she coughed, her lungs and her chest on fire.

Her eyes opened to darkness, dizzying, shifting darkness, and a faint sent of pollen hung in the air. She curled her fingers in, hot white pain vibrating through her muscles and her tendons, and her lips separated in a strangled cry. The pain ran up and down and all over, tingling at her shoulder, and her stomach twisted.

She steadied her agonized huff into slow, short pants, and she tested her other arm stretched out above her. It was fine to move, and she pushed herself up, greatly heeding her broken arm. She looked herself over. She tested her other limbs and did a check of herself with her good hand. She still wore the ruined dress for Stillman's retirement party, her curl knotted and twisted with dirt and grime, and she smelled awful. Like manure and urine. Only one smelled belonged to her, a bodily function induced by such pain and fear and panic. It mattered very little in the face of her reality.

She climbed to her feet and scanned the area for movement. It was so dark and silent. The blackness appeared to shift and sway around her, and she fell back against the wall, nearly tumbling back down into the dirt. She cleared her throat and exhaled, not bothering to call out. If he was here in the darkness, be there in the darkness. She had better things to do.

A crackling sound shot through the room, cold water rained down on her, and she was ready to murder someone. It was a sprinkler system in case of fire, but it came down for at least thirty minutes. She scrubbed the dirt off her face with it, but she still couldn't see. And the weight of the water on her dress made it slip off her body. She discovered them her panties were gone, too, and she was left in only a bra.

She swallowed and touched her lower body, hands shaking, the cold rain sticking to her skin. She closed her eyes and tried to think about on what happened. She couldn't lace together anything beyond the initial assault. He drugged her, and it knocked her on her ass. He could have done anything to her. Clearly, he did something to her already. Her shoes and underwear were gone. They were completely gone, and...she was alone in the dark. She couldn't see anything, and... and...

A flash of color caught her attention, she lifted her eyes and saw spikes of neon green and pink coming at her. She screamed.

––

She spent likely hours pacing the length of the room, seeing it was long, very long, but not very wide. She had two other people in here, they could have touched both walls if they lined up. The entire room was made of dirt, smelled of dirt, and it was always dark. She couldn't tell how many days had passed, whether the sun was up or the moon was out, and it was only her.

This creep didn't visit, there were no cameras, and it was no chance of escaping on her own. She worked that out the first time she woke up. Her arm was broken, and she would probably have to lift herself up out of here, and she couldn't do that. Not to mention the ceiling was mostly solid cement. She felt for lines, but she couldn't see or feel any being an exit. They were just there as false hope of an exit.

She knew that, because she spent what had to have been hours pushing and feeling and pounding on all three circles. She cut up her good hand doing it and hoped the water that came down kept it clean from infection. She would have wrapped with, but her dress was almost one with a mud puddle, and she didn't want to go there. She already had to make a bathroom corner and tolerate the smell. With floor so wet all the time, she had no way of knowing where it really was anyway.

––

 _The water splashed out of the side of the tub, Tara laughed nervously, and Rosita had half a mind to put Tara in her lap. Her bathroom was going to be ruined. She just bought it. It was memory foam and soft, and she told Tara not to add so much water. She would have to make the bathroom next time._

" _I can't have nice things, and you are why." Rosita exhaled and drank from her wine glass, still enjoying the scents of rose water and the warmth of the bath water and her girlfriend behind her. It was so relaxing until Tara sloshed out more water, and Rosita was tempted kick her out._

" _You can have nice things. I just get them wet apparently."_

" _Or rip them. Those panties were in a matching undergarment set of purple lace I'd been eye for seven months, and they finally went on sale, and you_ ripped _them. I only wore them twice."_

" _You told me to."_

" _I didn't think you would. It just felt sexy to say."_

" _So, don't listen to the words coming out of your mouth? Okay, I'll try and remember that for next time." She rolled her eyes and picked up her glass of wine from the table beside her._

" _At least if you're going to rip something, rip a bra. I hate them, and honestly I wear them so you'll remove them."_

" _You like putting obstacles in my way?" She moved hair from Rosita's face. "That is so mean."_

 _She smiled and peeked up at her. "I like the anticipation."_

" _I could go slower."_

" _You could, but I like how the lace feels when you cup my breasts. It's nice."_

 _She shook her head. "You are ridiculous."_

" _I like what I like. You don't see me judging you for your pigtails at age, what now?"_

" _Okay, I'm out."_

" _Noo, Tara, I was joking." She set her glass down and turned her body to face her somewhat. "Don't leave. I haven't spent a lot of time with you since this stupid case, and we have lost time to make up for."_

" _So it's these hands you want?"_

 _She laughed. "No. I want you to shush, for one, and just hold me. I'm exhausted. Unless you want to massage me, I'll be here." She leaned back against her, pushing hair out of her face and blindly poking at Tara's face, and Tara bit her finger. "Ow." She laughed._

" _You started it." She adjusted her legs. "Lift your butt for a second, I'm sticking to this tub."_

 _She stood up so Tara could adjusted herself and sat back onto her lap. "I need a bigger tub." She rested her head on Tara's shoulder. "I need a bigger apartment. Your crap is slowly taking over my crap. I don't think that's even my toothbrush."_

" _Well, it's not." She wrapped her arms around her midsection. "You have an electric toothbrush, babe. Mine is manual. You keep trying to sell the electric one on me, though."_

" _It's better for your oral hygiene."_

" _My oral is perfectly fine, thank you very much." She kissed her temple. "I get great feedback, so I'm positive on that."_

" _You are such a dork and a pervert."_

" _I know." She ran her fingertips up and down her stomach, dipping a tip into her belly button now and then. "You have soft skin."_

" _It's these baths." She set her hand over Tara's right hand, lacing her fingers through hers. "This is mine now." She had lost the other to the water, and she wasn't going after it. "And thanks."_

 _Rosita leaned forward, still holding Tara's hand, and she looked over the type of body washes she had. She actually could use a massage, and she would do the same for Tara, but she had to find a scent that would go with both of them. Tara didn't like strong smells, so the citrus was off the table. And the cherry was too much for Rosita. Tara liked it and used it when she showered here, but hmm. How could sweet pea?_

 _Tara swirled her finger around in the water and caught some suds on her fingertip, tracing them onto Rosita's back, and and Rosita shuddered. Tara smiled and dipped her finger back in the water, leading suds up the line of her spine, and Rosita purred softly, asking for more pressure on her lower back. Tara pulled her hand free and felt a few knots there, holding her hips and firmly pressing her thumbs into her skin to rub them out._

" _Ooh." Rosita closed her eyes. "How did you get so good at this?"_

" _I didn't know I was." She ran her eyes over this angle of Rosita's body, how suds slowly fell down the curve of her ass and down her hips, and Tara's heart skipped a beat, her throat drying out. "Damn..."_

" _What?" She looked over her shoulder at her. "Is something wrong?"_

" _Nothing's wrong. You're just...gorgeous."_

 _She blushed. "You're looking at my ass, though, so...?"_

" _It's a part of you," Tara shot back and lowered her hands._

" _So, what you're an ass girl now?"_

" _I might be. Have you seen yours?" She pulled her back to her, and Rosita smiled with an eye roll, kissing her. "What'd you need over there?"_

" _I wanted you to massage me with soap, but you already did that." She searched her eyes. "Now I want you."_

" _In the tub? We'll ruin your bathroom."_

" _Then we'll ruin it." She kissed her softly, Tara reached up and caught her chin, gliding her thumb upward to her cheek, coaxing her lips apart with her tongue. She pulled back, Tara kept her tongue out at her, and Rosita smirked. "Hang on."_

 _She re-positioned herself, or attempted to, and Tara laughed now. Rosita slid and squealed, and Tara caught her, kissing her and laughing against her lips. This was a mess, and they let the tub drain to restart this in the bedroom. Soap suds followed them to the bedroom, Tara hooked Rosita's leg over her hip, and Rosita traced her tongue across Tara's bottom lip before Tara claimed her soft tongue and her mouth._

 _Rosita pushed her over with her hips, breaking the kiss to sit back and adjust her ponytail, and Tara pulled her close, kissing up her torso and ignoring how the rosewater tasted like flower stems and taking her breast into her mouth. She tenderly tugged on her nipple, and Rosita moaned, her hair falling down her shoulders, the entire concept of how to make a ponytail lost to her._

" _Fuck, Tara." She dragged her fingers through Tara's hair, her heart racing at the feel of wet heat on her breast then teeth on her nipple. She could feel every tug and pinch and suck between her thighs, and she needed more, but she would wait. She always had more first, but not this time. She wanted to spoil her this time. Shortly, because damn that— "Aah."_

 _Tara released her breast and kissed her mouth, taking the spare hair tie from her wrist and tying back her girlfriend's hair. Rosita thanked her and kissed her once, and Tara tried to touch her, but Rosita wouldn't let her._

" _What?" She searched her eyes._

" _I said I wanted you." She tucked hair behind Tara's ear, searching her eyes. "I mean every inch of you, and you are going to take it—all of it." She kissed her and murmured, "I need to taste you, Tara."_

" _Rosita, you—"_

" _Shh." She kissed her once more and guided her backwards on the bed, smoothing her hands down her body to rest on her hips, and she kissed her way down to where her hands were, diving her tongue into her belly button, her teeth lightly hitting the ring there, and Tara gasped softly._

 _Her hands slid down to her thighs, Tara shifted underneath her, and Rosita tugged on her ring to make her stop moving, and apparently Tara really liked that. She would have to make a careful note of that, moving downward and kissing her inner thigh, tracing her own name into the skin with her tongue. She did the same to the other thigh, lightly biting the flesh there, and Tara moaned, pushing her hips upward._

 _Rosita smiled at her, tracing a finger over her cleft, the whimper of her girlfriend causing her own walls to throb. She was pulsating as Tara gasped and moaned, and she rubbed her palm against her sex. Tara pushed back against her, and Rosita's breathing began to increase as the motion and sight before her, her own body begging for more. She wanted to touch herself in time with Tara, but later, precious later. She was going to wait for it._

 _She slipped a finger inside, Tara blissfully cried out at an end to the teasing, her damp walls greeting her finger, and Rosita added another finger inside, closing her eyes at the feel of her lover so wet. She removed her fingers and placed a soft kiss to her sex, tracing her entrance with her tongue, tasting her juices. She flattened a hand on Tara's pelvis to keep her still and dipped her tongue inside._

" _Yes," Tara cooed, the feel of her girlfriend's tongue sliding across her, and she saw stars when Rosita pulled her folds between her lips, sucking and licking, and she honestly didn't know if she was going to survive this. "Oh, God."_

 _Rosita went deeper, moving with the thrusts of Tara's hips, and she began to suck on that sweet gem inside, stroking her with her fingers, and she just devoured every delicious thrust and moan her lover gave._

The sound of sprinklers snapped her out of her dream, her body was throbbing, and she wanted to cry. She didn't want to think about Tara while she was trapped down here. She wanted to talk to her and and love her and make love to her. She wanted to be wrapped up in her arms after hours of sex and kiss her brow like she always did, and she wanted to say those words. She should have said them so long ago. Goddamn it. She should have said it!

She screamed as loudly as she could, hoping the pain of that would leave, but it didn't, and she sobbed. To love Tara so much and to be here instead of saying it to her was her deserved punishment. To hurt Tara like she did...Her love wasn't enough to make up for that, but if she got out of this, she would give her that love and so much more.

"AAAAAA!"

– – –

Her eyes opened at the cracking of the sprinklers, her body still on the dirt floor, her arm burning, and hot water poured down on her. She reached up as it washed over her, she opened her mouth to drink, and there was a heavy iron taste to the water. She was too parched to care, and she pushed herself up to drink more of it, and she closed her eyes as it rained down on her, the only sound the in darkness.

She inhaled deeply and thought about something better. She didn't want to be here mentally, though the sharp pangs of hunger tried to force her out of her head. She wasn't going to stay here. He could have her body, but not her mind.

" _Is this the part where I tell you this place sucks?" Rosita lowered the menu of the new restaurant she and Tara were trying, mostly since their friends shared the their favorite spots, and they didn't want to run into them. They were on a date, anyway, so new places it was._

" _Yeah, I'm thinking it, too." She poked at the hard bread. "Wanna run for it?"_

" _I'll pay for the drinks, but I don't want the food or anything I can't see them make in front of me."_

" _I'll cook for you." Tara looked for the waiter. "It's bound to be more fun than this."_

" _Will you make pudding?" Rosita finished her drink._

" _I can, but wouldn't you rather have something better?" She looked over at her. "Like, I dunno, moose or anything else?"_

" _I know a place that has great raspberry moose." She stood up. "I'll go pick it up, and I'll meet you at my place."_

" _Why do you want this moose so bad?"_

" _It's not the moose I want so bad." She collected her clutch from the table and set a hand on Tara's shoulder, leaning down and kissing her. "I'll explain it later."_

" _You'e not eating that off me."_

" _We'll see."_

 _Tara was firm about that not happening, but the waiter came over, and she couldn't continue to argue her case. She paid of the wine and caught a cab to Rosita's, and she arrived there before her. She pulled out the steaks they'd bought last week, putting baby potatoes on to boil, and she couldn't find a vegetable to save her life. She would have to stop by that corner store._

 _The front door closed and Rosita called to her._

" _Yeah?" She stepped out of the kitchen to see her holding up a bag. "This the moose?"_

" _No, it's brussel sprouts. It's all I trusted at the corner store." She held up another bag. "This is the moose."_

" _Again—no." She took the other bag to the kitchen, Rosita followed and leaned in the doorway, and she removed the jacket to her suit, pulling the apron on to protect her shirt. She could change, but she didn't want to deal with it right now._

" _Please?" Rosita pressed. "When do I ask you for anything?"_

" _In bed? A lot. Like all the time, Ro."_

" _You even came with the strap-on, so don't go there again." She huffed. "Please? I've always wanted to do that, but...Abe was too hairy. And if I'm going to get sticky, I'd rather be with you."_

" _Oh, hell no now."_

" _Tara." She groaned. "I'll do anything you want next time. I'll wear an outfit. I have toys you like. Oh, I'll wear the strap-on!"_

" _Enough with the strap-on." She faced her. "I...don't like moose. On me or in me."_

" _Would you rather have the pudding?"_

" _Rosita."_

" _Whipped cream?" She was getting desperate. "I can't get off directly, so let me eat whipped cream off your breasts."_

 _She turned the oven on the brussel sprouts and walked over to her, grasping her hips. "We are going to make a mess on your bed, baby, I hope you know that." She kissed her. "And if I get off, so do you."_

" _Okay, but I am so against you doing that right now."_

" _There's more than one hole, and you have so many toys." She bit her bottom lip. "But after dinner and after you've showered. I'm not dealing with the body glitter."_

" _Fine." She smiled. "I really love this side of you. I didn't know you and I had so much in common."_

" _It's a little surprising."_

" _It's hot. God, I so want you." She moved her arms around her shoulders._

" _Too bad. You need real food." She kissed her forehead. "Later."_

" _I hate later."_

" _But you'll love it when it's here."_

" _Fair point." She stroked her cheek. "You treat me well in and out of bed. I like it. I wish I would have done this a long time ago."_

" _You're still one of my best friends. We just...added to it." She smiled. "I'm always gonna treat you well, and I like...knowing there's someone I can..."_

" _Heat up those cold, lonely sheets of yours with?" Rosita finished, though Tara had a different thought there entirely._

" _Yeah, exactly, my cold, lonely sheets." She returned to the steaks and looked for seasonings, rubbing them onto the steaks. "Don't forget to put the moose away, babe."_

" _Oh, right." She paused in the doorway. "Would you do the strap-on again?"_

" _Are you asking for me, or do you want it?"_

" _Kinda both." She bit her bottom lip. "I like you being on top like that."_

" _So you'd like me better with a penis?"_

" _No." She walked over to her. "I may not be a lesbian, but I am very much into you, Tara Chambler. I just love the image of you riding me like you own me. It's arousing as fuck, and I get to kiss you more and watch you come. Okay?"_

" _You're so horny right now, aren't you?" She wiped her hands off._

" _It's doubled because of my period, but yes." She laughed. "I'm more excited about the meal after dinner. Which I am very happy about too. I love when you cook for me. I should cook for you more often."_

" _Yes, you should." She pulled the cast iron skillet down and flicked the front burner on._

" _I'll make breakfast then." She kissed her. "Anything you want."_

" _I'll let you know."_

 _She put the moose in the fridge and sat down in the kitchen. "Oh, do you want some wine? Or beer?"_

" _Sure."_

" _I bought your favorite kind of beer. I had to ask Carol and go to about five different stores before I found a case." She pulled down two wine glasses since she didn't own anything to drink beer out of, and she wanted to pretend they were classy tonight. They looked classy. She grabbed a chilled white wine and a bottle of beer._

" _You didn't have to do that."_

" _It's fine." She tucked hair behind her ear and smiled at her. "You're making dinner. It's fine."_

" _It makes me happy you did this." She grinned._

" _Then my plan is a success." She filled the glasses and handed the beer out to Tara. "Cheers."_

" _Cheers." She drank from the glass and felt her chest ache. She laughed at herself so softly Rosita didn't hear and set the glass down to tend to the steaks._

 _Rosita leaned against the counter and watched her cook, taking the occasional drink from her glass. She felt her mouth dry out at how insanely gorgeous she looked from here. She worked that suit better than any man could have, and she was so focused. Rosita loved that expression on her, and she really...appreciated this new relationship. It was a way to feed parts of herself she tried to lock away. Maybe a little time in the sun was okay. If it was with Tara, she knew it would be okay. She wouldn't be burned._

" _Ow!" Tara hissed._

 _She tried not to laugh. "Did... did you just burn yourself?"_

" _Yeah." She blew on her finger._

" _Here." She grabbed a cube of ice from the freezer and held her hand carefully, rubbing the ice on her finger, her palm catching the cold water that dripped down. She rubbed it carefully back and forth over the length of the burn until Tara said it was okay._

" _I hear mustard works too, but then I wouldn't do this." She tossed the melted cube into the sink and lifted Tara's finger to her mouth, sucking the cold and the moisture off it. She did not expect the onion or thyme there, but it was a nice taste of the steak._

" _That seems redundant. It hurts now."_

 _She released her finger. "Who said I was helping?"_

 _Tara laughed. "Too true." She caught her chin and kissed her, pulling her right against her body and slipping her tongue into her mouth. She wanted it to be a thank you for the attempt, but she didn't want to stop kissing her to thank her. She would get around to that later._

– – –

Bright lights filled the room, Rosita groaned and covered her eyes, hearing the mud squishing under shoes. She couldn't uncover her eyes to see who it was, but a blanket was draped over her. She felt it warm and soft against her body, and she parted a few fingers to see blonde hair and a leather jacket. It was definitely the asshole who had taken her, and she wanted to fight, to see where he had come from so she could escape. Or to make him pay for taking her in the first place.

"They don't care about us," his voice came. "They've stopped caring about you."

She shook her head.

"They have. Even if they haven't, they'll never find you, and they will given entirely soon. I can't let her do that."

"Tara?" She tried to speak her name, but her throat was too dry. It felt like razors and lava, and she gripped her throat.

"You'll die here for sure." He ran his eyes over her body. "I'll just have to make sure they know who I in control here. It's not them. It's not you. It's... me, and I will not let them stop. Once you die, it'll be pointless to continue... I'm going to need more tansies."

She tried to grab his boot, but he was walking away. She tried to open her eyes, but at the light they watered and screwed shut. She groaned and heard him come back, his hand met her cheek, and she grabbed it to pull it off, but she wasn't strong enough.

"Hold still. This will hurt." He pushed something lubricated through her lips, she groaned a complaint, but he kept shoving it. She gagged as it reached deeper and deeper inside of her. She realized then it was a feeding tube, and she gagged even more. "You can't die just yet." He forced the puree down the tube and into her stomach.

––

The room was swirling and twisting, she had thrown up several times, and she could taste blood in it. She covered her mouth and tried to keep some of it in. She had been so hungry, but that slime... She lurched forward and hurled, her throat raw and searing, every her muscle in her body was sore, and she too weak for this. She couldn't physically carry on. She wanted to be able to. She wanted to see her love and her family again. She wanted to see Aaron and Eric with their baby. She wanted to see Carol and Daryl get married. She wanted to see Tara smile at her like she was the only living being in the world. She wanted it all. She wanted it back. Please, please, let it come back. Please.

She passed out onto the blanket, and her body was numb and spent. Hollow. She could barely feel her heart beating anymore, and the laughter and kisses of Tara were so far away. The memories of Carol and her curls faded, Aaron and his goofy-natured self crumbled, Glenn and Maggie the eternal ray of hope and love...shattered, and as her eyes fell shut, she thought she heard her mother calling to her.

The sprinkles flicked on, but there was no one there to feel them.

– – –

"Baby...?" a blurred voice called to her. "Ba...by?" It echoed in and other sounds followed, the machines of a hospital, she thought, hearing the heart monitor beeping, the drip of an IV bag. It smelled sterile, and like antibacterial soap, and safe.

"Baby?"

Her eyes slowly opened to Tara sitting beside her. She was difficult to make out at first, but she kept blinking, and someone opened her eyes by force, dripping two drops of something into them, and she winced.

"What is that?" Tara asked the nurse.

"Medicine. It's to help with the infection in her right eye, and the excessive dryness in the left. It'll take a moment to see, but she'll be able to. Thankfully."

After a few moments of blinking and tears falling from her eyes Tara came into focus. Clear, sparkling focus, and Rosita drank in how different she looked. Her hair had grown some, she was wearing black stud earrings and a white hoodie. She...she smelled so good. She smelled like home. Home.

"Hey, gorgeous, easy now." Tara smiled at her. "I have to get your mother. She'll kill me if I don't."

"Don't leave," Rosita begged.

"Not for long." She kissed her temple. "I brought you this stuffed mushroom, because I thought it was a really jacked up looking animal. I'm wrong, and it's a fungus, but here. It's soft."

She looked down at the plush mushroom on her stomach, and she smiled, touching it. "It is soft." She looked over and saw Tara was gone, and she felt panic rise in her chest, but all so quickly her mother and father came barreling in with Tara behind them. Her eyes burned with joy, and she couldn't hug them soon enough. One armed, but still.

It was only a matter of minutes before everyone rushed in to see her conscious only to be shooed out by Dr. S. He had given her a thorough examination and an estimated date of leaving, and he told her company was mandatory. He smiled at her, and she couldn't thank him enough.

The group came in to see them, Tara laced her fingers through hers, and it was no shock they knew. They told her of Tara's outbursts and determination to find her while Tara kissed her hand and smiled lovingly at her, like she was the only person in the room, and she asked how they found her. It was a wild and long story, and Rosita wasn't sure how much of it could be true. She didn't want to think about it, and she asked them what was going on with them since they found her.

When her brother found her, he damn near broke her. He held her so tight for so long, Livvy threw a fit and wanted to hug her, and Andrea had to remind him she was still recovering. He was so upset, all red in the face and crying, and he finally let her go. He helped Liv onto the bed, and she hugged her aunt tightly. Rosita kissed her hair and held her so close, and she shared a hug with Andrea and Demi. She loved the warmth and the scents of clean laundry and floral perfume and even Liv who smelled like cherries and play-doh. It was the scent of freedom, and she loved it. She loved them.

It was around ten when they all had to leave, Dr. S let Tara stay an additional hour per Rosita's request and the improvement of her mental state, and Tara held her. It was a challenge to get into a comfortable position, but once they found it, they weren't moving for the night.

Tara ran her fingers through her hair, kissing her forehead and pushing her finger carefully through the fingers on her hand connected to the broken arm. That had to rebreak and set it for to heal properly. Rosita wasn't aware at the time, but the thought made Tara and her both sick.

She set her head on her shoulder and nuzzled her nose against Tara's jaw. "I love you."

"I know." Tara grinned. "You told me."

"When?" She had no memory of that.

"When you first came to, it was only for likely a second, and you knew I was here. You hadn't opened your eyes, but you said you loved me. You said my name, and that you loved me. Then you passed out, but you're awake now, so let me tell you something." She traced her jawline tenderly and kissed her. "I love you. I love you so much, and... I'm sorry I couldn't find you sooner. I'm so sorry."

"You guys found me at all, and I'm grateful for that. Don't be sorry." She snuggled closer to her. "Please don't be sorry."

She kissed her forehead and held her closer. "You haven't asked what we did about him."

"Is he still alive?"

"Awaiting trial." She nodded. "Do you want any details? Do you want to know who he is?"

"No." She buried her face in her shirt and closed her eyes. "Don't leave, even if they ask you to."

"I wouldn't." She pulled the thin blanket around them. "I'm gonna be right here. Sleep."

The next morning she was given a full run down on what he had done to her, and she hadn't been touched by him at all. She was so grateful and almost cried, and she felt Tara squeeze her hand tightly. She spoke with Dr. S about how long it would take her arm to heal, and he had lengthened it due to the distress of the kidnapping, and she knew Boss would put her on leave pending a full evaluation by a professional. She was ready for that, but not to be back out there. Not yet. She did need time and light and...her family.

"We cleaned up your apartment." Aaron was stirring soup he'd made her to help with cleaning out her system. "And we made sure to the replace the mirror."

"She'll stay with us." Carol set a hand over Rosita's. "I mean we've all shared a bed, and I don't think you want to go back there alone, do you?"

"No. But can I stay with you guys? Won't it cause problems?"

"Nothing we can't work out." Tara smiled at her. "Besides think of my cold, lonely sheets."

She smiled, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you for saving me. All of you."

"Well," Glenn held up her mushroom and made a funny voice, "we love you so _mush._ "

"Oh, my God, no." Aaron shook his head while laughing. "No!"

Rosita giggled and took the mushroom from him, Tara looked up some better puns online and began to read them, Carol laughed with Rosita, and Aaron handed over the bowl of soup. It was so warm, and she felt so...happy. She couldn't believe this was real, but there they were. Laughing and joking and caring about her. Small miracles, eh?

The laughter stopped when Boss walked in front the first time, he smiled at Rosita and offered her a card and some fresh fruit. She thanked him and ate her weird and spicy soup, and it was weirdly yummy. She wouldn't eat it every day, but it went down easy, and it had the right kick. She knew she would one day teach that boy how to spice up food. She was proud of him.

"He's out of our lives." Tyreese sat down in the chair by the bed. "Life with no parole."

"Good ridden." Carol smiled at Rosita supportively.

"Saves me from having to kill—" Tara started.

"Chambler," Tyresee cut her off. "Don't finish that sentence. And don't get me started on you two. We'll have to...discuss it when you get back."

"Boss, Stillman let Lilly and Scotty date. They were reassigned partners, but still. They got _married_ ," Carol reminded him. "They're not partners. We are."

"Yes, but their first fight caused us hell. We're _not_ reliving that. We need rules, and I'll...figure something out, but for now rest." He met Rosita's eyes. "You need all the rest you can get."

"Thank you, Ty." She smiled around the spoon in her mouth, and he chuckled.

"I swear you're more my kids than my coworkers." He exhaled, and they laughed. "You're the reason I feel so old. It is no compliment."

"We love you, too, Boss." Glenn moved to hug him, but Boss sent him a stern look. "From right over here, we love you."

"I need some sleep." He rubbed his temple. "You all need to let her rest, too. You all have lives, don't forget that, all right?"

"Yes, Boss," they all replied, and he frowned.

"It comes from a good place." He rose from his seat. "I'll see almost all of you at work. I'll send you come comfort food, Espinosa, from my sister, Tahj and me."

"I look forward to all of it." She set the bowl down. "Thanks for coming to see me, guys. It really means a lot."

" _You_ mean a lot." Aaron patted her knee through the blanket. "Don't ever doubt that, even if you're alone. You are family."

"And we absolutely love you." Carol grinned at her. "And we'll be coming by for that food, too."

"I am not sharing." Rosita pointed to Boss. "I don't have to share, right?"

"Oh, look at the time. I have paperwork." He backed out of the room.

"That wasn't a yes," Rosita told Carol.

"It wasn't a no."

"But it is time to leave the patient for her blood drawing." The nurse entered. "You can wait outside if you want, but I won't handle you fainters, so scoot."

"I think she means you, Glenn." Aaron guided him out the door.

"I watched my wife push out my child. I'm no fainter."

"I'll get some drinks for us," Carol told Tara. "See if we can get a wheelchair and take her outside for some air."

"Cool." Tara kissed her girlfriend's forehead. "I'll be right outside."

"Okay." She watched them leave and held her arm out for the nurse to begin taking blood.

Once the nurse had gone, they all went outside for some air and talked until Glenn and Aaron had to leave, Carol had to meet Daryl for dinner, and she and Tara stayed out in the sun until it sank behind the clouds. Rosita wanted to spent all of her days like this, and one day, when she was able, she would want to spend her nights with Tara too without so much talking in whole sentences. More moans and nibbles.

The blanket left at the foot of the bed, their shoes on the floor, and Tara held her carefully, heeding her injury, and Rosita looked into her eyes. She realized then that this wasn't love. It wasn't love at all, and Tara looked back at her with slight confusion, because she was crying.

"Baby, what is it?"

"Nothing bad." She stroked her cheek. "I just...realized something important."

"You're crying." She brushed a tear off her cheek.

"Because of how lucky I am to have you here with me. I love you, and...I'm so happy we found each other in this new way." She was happy to finally find bumpy perfection and bliss. Love like her silly old parents, love that consumed every ounce of her and bubbled up in her chest like soda. She wouldn't let go of this feeling again, and she would never let Tara hurt again if she could help it. That was a promise.

Tara pressed an Eskimo kiss to her forehead, Rosita laughed softly at this display of affection, and Tara told her she loved her too. She said it with her eyes, though, and Rosita felt that love in her soul. She would treasure it, treasure them and everything they had and would have. Hmm, how could she sleep? She was content. She wanted to bask in it, not sleep and let it slip away, but it would be where when she woke. It would always be there.

– – –

The sprinklers cracked in the darkness.


	32. Even In This

**_Disclaimer: I own nothing._**

– – –

Michonne and Leo picked Shane up from the drop location, Tara and Carol were ready with first aid, but he wasn't as bad as they thought. He was beaten to hell, blue and black and red all over, and he was bleeding from a gunshot wound to the side. He had a man in the disposal group, and he knew where to shoot. He couldn't go to a hospital with Negan's men everywhere, so Carol offered to take care of him. Tara made eye contact with Carol, and she frowned a bit at her friend, but she didn't speak. They had Rosita to focus on now, and soon this weird fake reality would be over. She hoped that was all that would be over.

Carol helped him take his clothes off, he sat down in the filled tub, and she rinsed him off, smiling through her tears, and she couldn't keep her hand from shaking. "Sorry."

"I'll be fine." He groaned. "Just need to get cleaned."

"I'll do that." She pulled her hair back and grabbed a washrag and disinfectant soap. "Sit up, please."

"You say it like it's easy."

She laughed through her nose and snuffled, wetting the cloth and lathering it with soap,gently washing off his shoulder and back. He had bruising all over, her eyes stung with tears, and she rinsed the soap off. She set her forehead on his shoulder, tenderly kissing the bruises there, and he shivered.

"Sorry, did that hurt?"

"No." He looked over his shoulder at her with his one good eye. "But what are you doing?"

She leaned over and kissed him, the cloth and soap falling into the water, and she heeded the cut on his lip. She cupped his cheeks and kissed him softly, briefly, crying silently, and she was shaking more than he was. "I was so scared." She stroked his cheek. "I thought you had died."

"Nearly did, but we have to get Rosita back. I have to...put things right."

"You're not going anywhere near this. You need to rest. I need to clean you off." She wiped her eye and picked up the soap and washcloth. "I can't let you do that. You'll die."

"He's been in my territory, too, Carol. I can't ignore that."

"You will." She met his eyes. "It's not your fight anymore."

"It's not your call."

"Yes. Yes, it is. You don't get to go out there and die on me. You don't get to do that. That isn't okay. That won't _fix_ anything. You can't play hero, Shane. You need rest and blood. And we can't do that until this is over, so it's my call."

"On what grounds? I'm a higher rank than you!"

"On the grounds that I love you!" She sighed and shook her head. "So you don't get to die."

"You don't love me."

"Yes, I do. I try not to, but...you were my friend for four years before we dated, and...three years we were together. I can't help but feel some love for you." She washed his chest, he groaned, and she watched the water grow more and more pink. She wanted to cry and hold him and make it all okay. She wanted this all to just go away and for him to be healed. She wasn't good at this. She could be good for the people she saved in her cases, but this was Shane. How could she just hold it together cleaning up his blood? "God. You're such an asshole."

"I try."

"You know what I mean. I'm with Daryl, and you come back, and...we have to act like we were. I'm so confused." She sat back on the floor, soap-covered hands gripping the edge of the tub. "I love him, but I think I feel...like I want you." Or perhaps something to go with him or...something. She wasn't sure. Her head was twirling.

He lowered his eyes. "You want me?"

"I don't know. I think I do...but... there's just so much guilt. It's all guilt, and I want to make _something_ up to you. I want to fix everything, and sex used to fix so much with us. I think that's why I'm in here. I want..." She stopped talking and dropped her hands to her lap. "But I can't. I don't...want you like that. I just want to fix it." The world was spinning off around her, and she wanted to keep one small piece to herself. Rosita was missing, and Bri could be taken from Amy and Daryl, but this? It was right here. It could be fixed. Something that was broken here, a sharp edge that stuck out and glistened could be pulled free to heal, but...how?

"You're very confusing, Carol."

"I know." She inhaled and met his eyes. "Daryl's good to me, you know. He...treats me so well, and I don't deserve it. If you would have pushed it, I would have done it. I would have."

"No, you wouldn't."

"I still love you, Shane. I think back on what we had, and I used to masturbate when we were broken up. I...never told anyone, but I would all the time. I felt like you were still there, like you'd walk in, and we'd go from there. And I needed that. I'm scared I still do."

"I did too."

"But I have Daryl now, so I shouldn't feel this way. I love him now, and my body is something for us to have together, but...you kiss me, and it all blurs." The past made the future bleed, and it was horrible. She was horrible. To love Daryl so much and yet...

"I kept hopin' you'd realize that," he confessed. "I had a plan to rub it in Daryl's face. I hated him. He just came in and kicked me out, and everythin' we had was gone. I felt like he just wiped it all clean... But he didn't do that—I did. I erased everything we had for this job, and I didn't look back. I expected you to understand and wait without any clue what the hell I was doin', and you're right; I am an asshole.

"I hurt you, and I never acknowledged it. I apologized, but I didn't think about how much damage I had done. All we went through, and when pressed, I left. I left, and I didn't even have the decency to let you know why or for how long. I just cut you off, and I pretended it was for your best interest. I don't think it ever was... And for that, I'm sorry, Carol. You deserve the truth, and I am sorry."

 _The truth..._ She lifted her head and felt that guilt boiling up inside of her. She wanted to kiss all of it away and hold him until this was all over. She didn't know what would be over. She didn't know what that would solve. There was nothing logical in her thinking. She was emotional to the point of being reckless and ruining the best relationship she'd ever had. She was saying these things, but why? What was the real reason she felt...so lost? There was nothing here in the past with him anymore, so why was she caught up in it? What was lingering? Holding her back...?

She inhaled deeply, setting a hand on her stomach, and she whimpered. _Oh._

He heard her cry, and he looked at her. "What is it?"

"The truth, huh?" She inhaled weakly. "I...have a truth for you, Shane, and I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?"

"I _was_ pregnant."

His eyes flickered into hers, and he gulped, a numbing wave washing over him, and he would rather feel the beating he'd taken. He didn't expect to hear that. He didn't want to hear this. He couldn't... No, no.

"Not at the time of our break up, but I was pregnant with a baby. Fourteen weeks." She looked at him through the tears in her eyes. "With _our_ baby..."

"Don't." He clenched his teeth. "Don't say this."

"Our son." Her voice broke, tears falling from her eyes, and she closed her eyes to the world, trembling there on the floor, and she went back to the beginning.

– – –

 _A woman screamed. Rosita let Glenn go and scanned the area, all of them did, and they found one of their own standing by the doorway to headquaters. She didn't why that was worthy of a scream until her eyes fell to the semi-automatic in his hand and suddenly he began to fire._

 _She dropped to the ground with Glenn, Boss and Aaron reached for their weapons, Tara slid off the bench instantly to duck down and try to take out his leg, but it had suddenly become a bloodbath in a matter of mere seconds. People were scattering, people were bleeding, people were dead. There were so much screaming and crying, so much chaos._

 _Aaron dropped to the ground with a bullet to the leg, Shane instantly moved to protect him as well, pulling him behind the vender's cart where he'd moved himself and Carol the moment he saw the weapon, and Carol found Tara from behind the cart, their eyes meeting._

 _The shooter continued to randomly fire at people, seemingly not having any set target. Carol wanted to cover Shane while he dragged Aaron to shelter, but her gun was upstairs. Shane might have had his with him, but Carol couldn't ask him for it. He had already moved to get Aaron. He was more of an impulse man than a thinker. She hated that about him when he was on the job. She knew one day she'd get a call, and that'd be it. He'd gotten himself kill. Or shot. Or worse—someone else shot, and his name would be tarnished, and he'd never live it down._

 _Now wasn't the time to think about that! She peeked out once more, Shane pulled Aaron behind the cart, and he fired instantly at the movement. A strangled groan escaped through her lips, her gaze moving downward to her stomach where blood was gushing from a gunshot wound. She covered it with her hand, her vision blurring as white hot pain burned through her, and she collapsed onto the ground. The sounds of the shooting muffled and soon altogether stopped, and she began to slip from reality._

 _When she came to, she was in a hospital, the faint beeping of a monitor in her ear. Her mouth felt as though it were filled with cotton, her tongue thick and dry, and she felt clogged. Her head felt swollen, her lips leathery, and she couldn't sit up. She wanted to. She wanted to talk to Tara, see what had happened to the others, but she couldn't will herself to move. How heavily medicated did they have her?_

" _Hey, sweetie." It was a nurse, and she greeted her with a wide smile edged with sadness. "How are you?"_

" _Hmmm," was all she could choke out._

 _The nurse chuckled. "That's to be expected. You went through a lot." That sorrow spread through to her eyes. "Why don't I get the doctor?"_

" _'K," she managed._

 _By the time the doctor arrived, Carol had managed to wriggle into an upright position without opening her wound. She was pretty proud of herself, though she knew if she wasn't medicated, it'd hurt like a bitch. She'd be crying her eyes out and being scolded for the movement. She was glad Shane hadn't come back yet. Or maybe she wasn't. He could have helped her sit up. Oh, well, it was too late for that._

" _How are you feeling?" Dr. S asked his patient._

" _Better than when I first woke up. I think they lowered the dosage of the morphine." She cleared her throat. "How do I look? I mean, medically. Did the bullet do any damage?"_

" _You're going to be fine in a few odd weeks." His eyes told another story._

" _Why are you looking at me like that?" She swallowed hard. "Did...did something happen—?"_

 _He lowered his eyes and walked over to the bed to sit beside her. "Carol—" he swallowed with difficulty. "I'm so sorry to tell you this. I tried. I really did, but it was too late. The bullet... I'm sorry. Your baby didn't survive."_

 _She stared at him, bemused, and she almost laughed. She shook her head at him to tell him that he was wrong. There was no way she was pregnant, but her heart was racing, and...something felt wrong inside. She touched her stomach and dug her fingers in._

" _You didn't know." He swallowed. "I am so sorry."_

 _She whimpered and tried to figure out what he just said. She didn't understand. She didn't...understand. What had he just said? She lost her what? That didn't make any sense. Her body began to shake, and she tried to ask him how. How did she lose something she didn't know she had? How could her body have...made a child? She didn't... No, no, no. This wasn't true. It couldn't be true._

" _You were fourteen weeks pregnant with a boy. He...died instantly." She cried out and covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm so sorry."_

" _Where...?" she strained._

" _We thought you'd want to see him. We can bring him in, if you want."_

" _No, no." She shook her head. "No!"_

 _He nodded and departed from the room to give her time._

 _She curled up into a ball the moment he was out of the room, ignoring the pressure she felt in her lower belly and the wetness that followed. She wrapped her arms around herself, eyes widening, as shaky broken breaths coursed through her. Her face contorted with anguish as her lips parted in silent cry that didn't meet her ears, tears profusely rolling down her cheeks and splashing onto the blanket. She knew she was bleeding, but honestly it didn't matter. Once more her body reflected her mental state. She felt like she was a little girl again, hiding from her father after her mother bailed on them—on her._

 _Only this time Ed was in the form of a bullet, and he hadn't broken her bones, bruised her skin, choked her, no. No, this time he'd taken her child. She knew it wasn't Ed, but it was a man. Some asshole little boy who did this, and he was dead too. Her baby, him, someone else's baby girl, a baby boy's parents..._

 _So much blood had shed that day, and it wasn't just theirs, wasn't just hers. Shane's blood and Carol's blood...had stained the pavement, small and helpless, dead before it even had a chance. There was no way she could handle this, but there was definitely no way Shane could handle this. It would be her burden to bear. Her secret. She wouldn't tell him. She couldn't. It was horrible, but he wouldn't recover from this. So she would have to endure this alone and keep this from him, from her friends, from everybody. And try not to shatter to pieces in the process._

" _Carol." Shane was smiling until he saw her, and his smile fell. "Baby?" He hurried to her side, seeing she was bleeding. "Hey, stop, stop." He tried to make her be still, but she fought his hands. "Carol, stop!" His voice broke. "You—you're bleeding, please, baby, stop moving."_

 _She couldn't speak, but she looked up at him and felt her stomach turning. She moved away, he tried to stop her, but she threw up, holding him back._

" _Oh, God." He held her hand. "I'll get the doctor."_

 _She panicked. "Don't." If he told Shane... "Don't leave me."_

" _I need you to be okay." He searched her eyes. "I need that, so please, please let me get the doctor."_

 _She tried to argue, but she threw up again, and he ran to get a doctor. She set a hand over the bleeding wound and winced at the pain coursing through her. She shuddered and gasped, her vision blurring, and she heard feet. She was about to pass out into her own vomit, Shane caught her and kissed her hair, and the doctor injected her with a sedative. She met his eyes from Shane's chest and shook her head, reaching out for him, but the sedative was too fast._

" _I'll take care of her. Trust me." He set a hand on Shane's shoulder. "Go."_

" _But—"_

" _I'll let you back in later. Go."_

 _He held her close and kissed her head. "I love you, baby. I'll be right back." He set her down carefully. "Please...help her."_

" _I'll do everything I can. She's in good hands." He started to speak but his eyes fell on the unconscious woman and shook his head. "I really need to tend to her. I'll let you know when she's lucid."_

" _I'll see you soon." He left the room and tried not to punch a wall, because he wanted to. His...entire body fucking shattered to see her like that, and what could he do? What could he do? "Fuck." He wasn't sure when she found him, but Tara offered him a hug, and he cried. "Fuck."_

––

Shane sat on the edge of the tub with a towel around his hips, adding pressure to the wound on his side out of habit, and there was nothing there. The color had drained from his face, his eyes rimmed with tears, and he hadn't moved since she revealed what really happened that day. She could see him going through it as she'd gone through it, and she knew he was losing part of himself. She'd gone through that too. She waited before she continued, sitting away from him on the chest full of towels, and she bowed her head some.

"I didn't tell you, but I told Manuel. He...found me in the apartment, bawling in the bathroom, and he carried me to my room. He made me tea. He comforted me. It was so nice to just be held after all that crying and not be...crippled by guilt, and I told him. I told him everything, and that's why we left. We went to Mexico, and he helped me through it. I don't think I could I made it through to the other side without him."

He scoffed. "I comforted you, too."

"Yes, but it was our baby I lost. I... I couldn't cope with you so near. All I felt was guilt, and I was dying from it, Shane."

"So, Manny knew before I did?"

"And Rosita, but I didn't tell her. That creepy fucker who kidnapped her told her."

"So...Dr. S, Manuel, that creepy fucker and Rosita all knew before I did?" His voice was husky and dry.

She nodded. "I realize now I had no right to keep this from you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you or realize this sooner, but I didn't think you could have handled it. I knew we as a couple couldn't have overcome it, and I couldn't lose you back then. I loved you so much, and I couldn't lose you _and_ our baby boy... So...I hid it. That was my main reason—not just you being unable to process it and move on. It was a selfish decision, and it wasn't made with your best interest in mind. It was made with mine, and I apologize."

"How could you have not told me? Or Manny? He was my friend."

"He didn't want to hurt you, and I begged him not to. I played on his inability to hurt a wounded woman, and he just adjusted to having that secret. Don't blame him. It was on me. It was my decision, and I shouldn't have involved him."

"You're damn right. You should have involved _me!_ How could you have been so selfish as to not tell me you not only were carrying my child, but I lost that child on that awful fucking day?!" He flew off the tub, groaning at the pain coursing through him, and the towel ran red. She tried to help him, but he wouldn't let her touch him."We shared everything! How could you not tell me? How could you sit down for Thanksgiving dinner with my parents and not tell them about their grandchild?! How?!"

"What good would that have done? I didn't want to cause anyone any more pain! The baby was gone, and words couldn't have changed that! All my words would have left a void in them. I couldn't do that. I love your parents, and I couldn't do that to them."

"You did it to me. Right now by tellin' me this."

"You broke my heart," Carol started. "A—"

"So this is payback? Because that's fucked up, Peletier. That's real fucked up."

"No, it's not payback. Let me finish talking." She inhaled. "It's not all love I feel between us. It's...good memories, laughter, great sex...family, but there's so much bad, too. The break up, our fights, this...secret. It's so much, and our son... His memory deserved better, and that's my fault. It is, and I think it warped me..."

"Our son..." He swallowed loudly, his eyes looking her over. "Was there...anything to bury?"

She could only nod, sobs strangling her. He watched tears form in her eyes, and he lost his anger. He also realized what else he had lost _—they_ had lost. He walked over to her and held her. She buried her face in his chest, and he smoothed her hair down. He made sense of those memories in the hospital. He thought it was the pain of pulled stitches that made her cry and vomit. He thought it was the loss of those people that made her wail the second time he was allowed into her room. He thought wrong, and she let him. She _let_ him.

He cradled her head, and he inhaled the soft scent of her perfume and shampoo, remembering all of it. The last three years, the last few months, the good times and the bad. He replayed the news he'd just received, and he mourned. He buried his face in her shoulder and cried for his unborn child. He hated her, but he loved her too. He would always be here for her like he had been way at the beginning. Before the shooting range, before their rookie days, simply before. He couldn't live like this anymore, and neither could she.

He was falling apart inside and out. He was angry for the secrets but understood why they were kept He was torn and miserable yet whole and free. He was everything and nothing, but ultimately he was alone and...empty. It was over. After all these years, after all this time, it was over. Though the image of his future wife, mother of his children, hadn't been Carol in weeks, so perhaps it had been long before this moment in time.

Outside the bathroom, Tara covered her mouth to keep from crying. She had come to let them know they could leave now, and Boss wanted Carol and her to report back to HQ, but she overheard everything. She tried to leave, but she couldn't move. She had a nephew. Carol and Shane had a son. Rosita knew. Rosita...

"Christ." She pushed her hair back. "I need a fucking drink."

– – –

They had to leave in groups to avoid detection, Michonne took Shane to get medical attention for his wounds, Carol went to find Daryl, and Tara and Leo went to report back to Boss. Tara didn't would let Boss know what went down with Carol, and once Rosita was back, they would talk about it. It had been buried long enough.

Carol was lucky to find Daryl almost immediately at his apartment, getting out of his car, and she tackled him in a hug, physically knocking him backward into the door. He was surprised to find her their or in his arms or have such force in a hug. It'd been a couple days since they saw each other. They were working on helping Amy with Bri, but this judge was a prick. He was trying to force Amy to use, but she wasn't a druggie, so he pushed the date back and back for her to slip up and use. Amy was distraught, and Daryl was riddled with guilt, because Carol helped him with Bri while trying to bring Rosita home. She agreed, but he knew it was killing her. She was so torn and worn, and he was glad she didn't come around to work on this. She needed the break.

"Hey to you, too." He smiled at her when she released him, and he looked at her clothes. "What are you wearin'? Is this a guy's shirt?" He frowned and shook his head. "Wait, that's...designer shit and expensive."

"How do you know that?" She returned his frown, amusement glossing over it.

"Amy took me suit shoppin' for court. I left after I saw the prices." He was chased down the street by her. She wanted him presentable for court, and apparently his clothes weren't enough. He didn't mind trying to ease her apprehension, but there was a point of he was not going to fucking do that. For example spend 500 bucks on a shirt he'll wear once and can never return. He'd rather wear a hoodie and sweats, or send Carol in. Respected member of the PPD? That'd get Bri back real quick, but Amy wanted to do it herself. He respected her for it, but the kid had a ways to go still. The world wasn't kind.

"I...need to tell you something." She gripped his hands. "And I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Why are you sorry?" He studied her. "What happened?"

"A lot. Like...a lot." She moistened her lips. "But it doesn't excuse what I did. It doesn't."

"Let's go upstairs, and you can tell me about it."

"No, we were happy upstairs." She was trying not to cry, but it was inevitable. She was over this life right now. It was her own fault. She hated herself and wanted...

"Hey." He touched her chin. "What happened? Is Rosita all right?"

"I had to go undercover to help find her. We have new information, because...Tara and Shane found it. I...had to be his...not girlfriend, not exactly, but we had to kiss, and..." A frozen coal planted itself in her stomach, spreading through her body like vines, seeming to lower her body temperature, and blood began spikes under her skin. She felt...torn apart at this confession, and it was all her own doing. He deserved better than her. That had become very evident the second he came into her apartment to replace those pipes and he turned her down, because he thought she was dating someone else.

He studied her face when she fell silent, shivering in the February air, and he removed his jacket, placing it on her shoulders, and she started to cry. He pulled her into his arms and held her close. "You can tell me what happened, Carol. Just say it." He couldn't let her see his face. He couldn't.

She steadied her voice, her palm flattening over his breast. "I didn't sleep with him, but...I kissed him once we were out. He was injured, beaten by the group he was undercover with, and I kissed him."

"You know...lately, I've been thinkin' something." His voice deepened with each word, his eyes twinkling as they dried out, and his insides began to quiver. He set a hand on the back of her head, his chin on the top of her messy curls, and she asked him what he had been thinking. "I want you to be happier. I know...with Rosita gone, it's an asshole's request, but once she's back, I want you to be happier. And if that's with him... if you love him...I'll go. I'll step back, and you can be with him."

She stopped breathing, and she fell away from him into the street, turning away. The world was a haze of muted colors, clogging her ears and her sense. She felt nothing. Actual nothing, and there was a humming in the back of her mind that sounded like her name. She couldn't make out the words as she tripped backwards, golden lights flashing into her vision. She turned to see a car speeding her way, she saw the world go sideways, and she hit the ground. She sat up immediately and looked behind as he groaned and sat up, the driver blared their horn at them, and Daryl flipped him off.

"Fuck you! Asshole!" He rolled his eyes and looked over at her, seeing blood seeping through her jeans. "Oh, shit." He set a hand on the spot, feeling the blood spreading faster. "Fuck, what happened? I don't see a cut."

"The guy Shane was "working" with," she numbly responded. "He cut my outfit when he tried to..."

His head snapped up. "What did he try to do? Why did you tell me about Shane? Fuck him. What did this asshole do? I'll kill him!"

She felt tears fall from her cheeks. "You can't touch him. We barely can, and we know everything about him and his operations. He's too slippery, that's why Shane and his partner went under. We blew his cover wide open."

"Okay, what the hell happened? Tell me everything, but let's get you cleaned up inside."

"I don't want him or love him, Daryl," she confessed. "I want you. I love you. I promise you he is in the past. He won't come between us. We talked it out, and while we did love each other, we... weren't good for each other. We didn't think about the other's feelings or how certain information could help the other grow. We...just don't fit. He didn't realize it until I told him the truth about something that happened a couple years ago when we first began dating, and I wish it had come before you and I. I wish... this wouldn't have happened again. I'm sorry."

He stared at her, hearing all of her words but not processing anything beyond that third sentence. "W—what did you just say?"

"I... Which part?"

"The part where you love me." He gripped her cheeks and kissed her, she welcomed his lips, and the vines began to shrink back to her stomach at the contact. "Shit." He got blood on her face, and he laughed. "We're in the dirty snow outside too... Shit. This is...gross."

"It can get even grosser," she mused.

"Yeah, probably already has." He stood up. "C'mon, let's get cleaned up. You have some clothes here, and I have some bandages."

He guided her through the business front and upstairs to his apartment, the cold seeping into their bodes, and the blood on Carol's hip had stopped expanding across her pants. He locked the front door at her request, smirking at her, and he turned the shower on. He helped her out of her clothes, pausing for a moment, and she looked at him carefully. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he returned to helping her out of her top, finding the under...sheer thing.

"What the hell...?"

"Did I mention the dress up portion of undercover?"

"No."

"Yeah, I was a hooker, I think. I had the boots for it, which I guess I get to keep."

"I'm glad it was worth it?"

"If it brings Rosita home, then it's worth it."

He nodded and looked over the top. "How did you get this on?" He laughed at her helpless expression and kissed her softly at her embarrassed confession of having to have help. He just tore it off since it was ruined anyway, and he unbuttoned her pants, seeing the bandage on her hip. He bent down and carefully removed it, tossing it in the trash and seeing how deep it was. He definitely wanted to kill him.

Once they were undressed, they stepped into the shower, and Carol scrubbed her entire body to erase the experience off her. Daryl noticed a bruise on her ass cheek and was tempted to find Shane and punch him just in a show of masculinity. Wasn't that the guy thing to do at something like this? It was the Merle thing, and Carol would be pissed. He wouldn't do that to her. After all, she loved him now, and he felt the same, but he wanted to wait before he said anything. He wanted good timing, and it wasn't now.

Carol winced at scrubbing her side, looking down as blood ran down to the slip proof tile floor, and she watched it swirl down the drain. She set her hand over the cut and felt something cold on her scalp that was too thick to be water, and she looked over through the glass doors at the mirror to see Daryl had began to wash her hair. She smiled and wanted to kick herself. How could she ever doubt loving him?

She closed her eyes and knew that if Tara felt this way about Rosita, she was going to break the world to bring her back home. Carol wanted to be by her side, and she would, but right now, she had to make repairs to her own world. Tara would understand or kick Carol's ass later. Or both. Likely both. She wouldn't blame her for either. She was fucking up a lot lately, so she deserved whatever came her way.

––

Daryl rubbed ointment into the wound, she groaned, and he told her to hush. She pressed her eyes shut at him pushing the wound, and she winced and asked what the hell he was doing. He smirked at her and pressed a gauze pad on it, using tape to secure it, and he cleaned his hand off.

They had talked about what happened, Daryl had Negan high on his shit list with Shane right underneath it, and he hoped this helped bring Rosita home. He knew Tara would drain this lead until it was limp on the floor, and he knew if anyone could bring her home against the rules, it was Tara. Maybe Carol, but not as she was. She wasn't herself yet. She was still so guilty, and it wasn't about the baby. It was more. But more what? What was she expecting to happen? He...wasn't happy it happened, but it happened, and it was clear it was just emotional duress, nothing more. He would still keep a fist reserved for Shane.

"You might fit Amy's shoes." He was already walking across the hall. "She bought a knew pair of converse. You can have 'em, and I'll replace 'em."

"Are you sure that's okay?" She buttoned her jeans and came out of his bedroom, but the living room and kitchen were empty. "Daryl?"

"Yeah, it's okay." He returned with the converse. "You ready to get back to work?"

"I don't know. I still... Why aren't you angry?" She met his eyes. "I don't get it. If I kissed you and I were with Shane, he'd be livid. So why aren't you? The story doesn't matter here, remember?"

"Because you're mine. I'm not happy you kissed him, but it was a tough situation. I can't imagine it, but I know how I feel about you, and...to pretend to be with you when we weren't together would...probably fuck with me. I'm not comfortable with it, but he's out of your life now, right?" She nodded. "Then it's okay. Or it will be. I may have to kick his ass."

"It's that simple?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I don't know. It just doesn't feel resolved." She pulled the shoes out of the box. "We have more here than sex, right?"

"Umm, we started for months without sex." He shook his head at her. "You have my heart, Carol, remember? Sex or no sex, though..." He slid his arms around her waist, "we've gotten pretty good at that, so kinda leanin' towards more sex."

She smiled at him, and it reached her eyes. "You're amazing, and I don't know how I deserve you."

"Maybe it ain't deserve." He stroked the dip in her back. "You ever think about that?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we care about each other. We work for it. Some days more than others, but... You make me want to be better for you. You make me want to actually go for my goal." He searched her eyes. "I wouldn't want to wake up to anyone else, to be honest, and I...ain't playin' for what I deserve. It's what I earn and what I want, and I want you."

She expelled air from her lungs. "I owe you so much."

"No, you don't."

"I do. I really do, and I want...to make up for my mistakes. I say I'm loyal, but I'm not. I'm going to prove that I am. I promise." She ran her fingertips over the worn, soft plaid of his shirt. "You have been by my side through all of this mess, and I can't even help you with Bri. I want to, but...I'm kinda...a mess myself."

"Don't add my problems to yours. You got enough." He kissed her forehead. "C'mon. You need to get some food and some rest in you. You'll feel better in the morning."

"Can I really do that?"

"Yeah, you really can do that. Your friends will follow up on the information you got from that lead, and they'll call you to let you know how it's going."

"I... Oh, my God." She felt her pockets. "I left my phone with Brian! Damn it. I have no idea where he is."

"Tara will call me. She has my number."

"Yeah, I guess... Wait, how does she have your number?"

"She came to talk to Merle a couple days ago. She left me her number, and I had to call her last night to see where you were. You weren't answering your phone, and neither did she, but um, anyway, she has the number."

"Why Merle?"

"If you want to find shady people, Merle knows 'em. I told you about him and his issues with the law."

"Yes, but you never gave details. What all was he into?"

"Hell if I know all of it."

"But he does." She set the shoes down and marched over to Merle's apartment, and Daryl told her he'd call to see if Merle was home after she knocked and no one answered. She looked back as Daryl called, but he shook his head. She tried the knob, and it opened. She peeked at him, but he was turned away from her. She scurried inside the door before he could stop her.

She crept through the living room, seeing a struggle of some sort had occurred in the front room. Unlike Daryl's, it was just a living room, but there were two sets of doors against the walls that may lead to the kitchen and dining area. She checked through both doors, seeing there was nothing out of place, so she moved on. This felt more and more like a crime scene, and she wished she had her gun. She had self-defense training, but she didn't want to get that close. If she had, she would.

She spotted broken glass in the hall and was about to near it when she heard a thud coming from down the hall. She balled her hands into fists and minded her footing over the glass to not give herself away or step on with her socks. She passed a few doors on her way before coming to one where the thud had come from. It sounded again. She heard a strained gasp, recognizing the sound from somewhere, and she kicked the door open, nearly jumping in with upraised fists to fight at the scene leading up to this room. It wasn't exactly fight-worthy. Though if this were a sick animation, she'd turn the fist on herself and blow these memories away.

It was a woman who had gasped, and there had been a struggle, but not a bad struggle. A sort of...sexy struggle. A lust-induced struggle, perhaps, but nothing so worthy of her fists or cop sense. She really should have guessed.

"Shouldn't I have the fist up," Merle mused, "since you're the one bustin' into my place?"

"I'm sorry." Carol couldn't look at him, so she kept her eyes cast away and dropped her hands.

"Not bad timin'," he smirked, standing up.

Carol blushed and lifted a hand to her face to cover her eyes.

"What? Not gonna compare to see who's bigger?" He pulled his jeans on, carefully zipping, and he reached for a cigarette.

"No, definitely not." She dropped her hand and stepped back. "I—I should just be going now."

"Yeah, you should." He wasn't joking now, but it wasn't a threat. It was more...telling her to get out more than anything.

"I'm sorry for uh, this." Her eyes landed briefly on the woman he was with as she turned to leave, and she stopped. "Wait." She looked back. "Are you kidding me?!"

"Nope, let's go." Merle caught her arm and hauled her out of the room and down the hall.

"Let go of me!"

"You busted into my house. Be glad I'm only leadin' you out."

"Get off." She shoved him into the living room. "What is going on here?"

"Adult fun." He took a long drag and blew it at her. "Consensual adult fun, so you're not needed."

"You know what I mean!"

"Look, there's some things here you don't understand." He was being sincere. "Things that my little brother doesn't even know, so why don't you just go to him and do whatever the hell you two do at nights."

"He is trying to get Amy's daughter back," Carol erupted. "Which is what I thought she would be doing or working towards, too, but I guess not."

"People build stress," Merle replied. "This is a stressful situation, where the stress can cause people to collapse, so you find an outlet. There's where I come in. But don't applaud me. I enjoy my work."

"You're disgusting." Carol's face scrunched and rolled her eyes over his shoulder. "Do you even understand the gravity of this situation?"

"I do." Amy stood in the hallway, wearing only Merle's white shirt that barely covered her. Her hair was down around her shoulders, messy, and Carol could see her cheeks were stained with tears, her eyes red. "And I'm not being stupid either."

"Really? How is this smart?"

"It's not, but me being alone and waiting and crying isn't making anything better." Amy swallowed. "I went over everything, but my apartment is a crime scene, so I'm stuck in a crappy one bedroom hole with my best friend, who doesn't need me hanging on her like a leech. She's sick of me crying. I'm sick of me crying, so I came over here."

"Guess he stopped you crying." She arched a brow, turning away from her slightly.

"Yes, he did. He comforted me." She shifted her weight. "I didn't come to have sex with him. I just came to talk. Daryl wasn't home. Merle found me in the hall and brought me inside. We just talked, and...it was about Bri. I was thinking about her and this situation most of this awful day. But...I got sick of feeling helpless and sad. I got angry, but I can't exactly cuss Randall out, now can I? I did this to the living room when Merle went to call Daryl. This happened a lot later."

"I never asked for details," Carol pointed out.

"I want you to know I don't do this," Amy confessed. "Merle...is probably the only guy I'll drop by and have sex with. The only one, and it's complicated. He can't even talk about it, and I don't want to think about it."

Carol nodded. "I'm sorry. I just don't know how you can focus on anything other than your daughter right now."

"Yeah, me either." This came from the doorway. This came from Daryl.

"Daryl." Amy paled.

"What's going on?" He didn't enter the apartment.

"Round two," Merle muttered. "Look, it's over, all right? Let's just end this here before anyone—"

"You're seeing him again?" Daryl cut Merle off. "After everything happened? All the reasons that made you walk away? And right now? When Bri is sleeping in a stranger's home? When you might not get her back?"

"What else can I do, Daryl? It's six o' clock on a Friday. My court date is on Monday—if they don't change it again. I don't have anything to hide, so I have nothing to cover up. I have nothing—"

"There is always _something_ you can be doing in times like these," he snapped and scoffed. "We talked so much about how done you were with him and with all that dating him meant. I thought you'd grown up. I thought you were finally in a good place with yourself that you didn't need to do this."

"Daryl," Carol frowned, not liking his tone.

"Hey!" Merle was no fan of it either.

"My niece might become a ward of the state permanently, and you're fucking around with him?!" Daryl started to yell. "And I'm guessing this isn't the first or second time you've done this. I'm guessing everything you've told me is bullshit. He knows about her. He knows I thought he didn't. You were just playing me!"

"It's not like that!" Amy protested.

"Then what's it like? I break my back to try and keep your bullshit secret for what? I ask my girlfriend to help with your case when her best friend and fellow detective is missing for what?" His face began to redden. "I've missed work and opportunities and dates for you, for your bullshit secret! I...I stood my girlfriend up and missed a chance to meet her friends for you."

"And you can't know how much that means to me. You were the only person I can turn to!"

"You have Andrea!"

"She has two kids and a whole new life, Daryl. Do you really think I can turn to her? She doesn't need my problems on her plate. Her husband's sister is missing, and she doesn't need to know I might lose custody of my daughter. There is nothing she can do for me, but she can be there to console her husband and his family."

He shook his head. "You're bullshit, Amy Harrison."

"I am just trying to survive until Monday." She was glaring at him, tears in her eyes, voice raw and strained. "My little girl is in some stranger's home, sleeping without her favorite bed sheets, without her favorite night light to chase off the boggy monster. She's eating someone else's food, and they don't know she doesn't like carrots unless they're baked, or beef unless it's in a burger. They don't know she likes to shower with fish on the floor so she can be a part of Nemo's school. They don't know she likes to have her hand held when watching TV or likes to be read the newspaper stories sometimes on a slow weekend! They don't know that that little girl is my entire reason for getting out of bed in the morning, and they don't care if I never see her again," she wheezed. "So don't stand there and tell me I'm bullshit, that my lies are bullshit! You don't know what I've been through!"

"I was there." He had lost the anger in his voice.

"When you left after staying with me...I crumbled. I didn't know what to do without you there. She didn't know why you weren't there. I had to figure out how to calm her down and myself, because you weren't there to handle her. I had to somehow do both jobs, and I broke, okay? It's hard. It's hard being a single mother in this life, and I couldn't ask you to come back after you'd just left. I know she's your blood, and you love her, but you need space. You have your own life, and I couldn't... I just couldn't take anymore of your time away from you." She shrugged her shoulders. "So...after a few weeks, I came to Merle. It wasn't about Bri, and it wasn't serious. I just wanted to feel something other than frustration and consternation at the world and my situation. It helped clear my head, and I got...to piece some of it together. I managed. It's not ideal. I'll admit that, but it worked. I was lonely, Daryl, and I could _never_ ask that of you. You're like a brother to me, and you now have Carol who you likely love and are committed to, and it was just easier to run to him than confront everything alone."

"You coulda come to me with the problems."

"I did with some of them, but others I had to figure out myself." She didn't want to admit that Merle had helped her out a lot over the years with ideas and some money here and there. She didn't want to admit that after body numbing sex, he held her, and she spewed her problems and he spewed out answers right back. She didn't want to admit that, because she'd have to admit that keeping Bri from him all these years was the wrong choice, and she couldn't handle that right now. Not on top of everything else.

"I can't lean on you for everything, and I can't turn to Merle for everything," she remarked. "But I can try and survive until Monday on my terms. I can't decided who my daughter gets to be with or be sure she has her favorite jammies, but this? This is familiar and comfortable, and I am so sorry to have kept this from you, but...there are some things you can't tell anybody. I'm sure there are things you haven't told me or Carol, right?"

Carol peeked at him, and he actually avoided eye contact. She frowned.

"I'm sorry. I can't do this." She turned and headed back to the bedroom before she started to cry again.

"She's pregnant," Merle announced, stamping out his cigarette in the ashtray he had to pick up off the floor.

"What?" Daryl lifted his head.

"A couple weeks, but yeah." He inhaled

"Is it...yours?" Carol inquired.

"Dunno. She won't tell me." He raised his eyes to hers. "If it's his, though, I'll kill him."

"You realize I'm a homicide cop, right?" Carol crossed her arms.

"I realize, and I don't care."

"So, what? You want another kid?"

"No, but I don't want it to be his kid. He doesn't deserve a kid."

"And you do? You know about her, but you haven't tried to be in her life?" Carol shook her head. "You're no hero yourself, Merle."

"I'm not the type of man you let around kids. I'm a bad influence. I cuss. I drink. I spend most of my time workin' or fuckin', and neither is appealin' to a child. I acknowledge that Bri is mine, but beyond that? She doesn't need me. She needs Daryl. She loves him and always has. She doesn't need me confusin' her."

"You don't believe that."

He inhaled. "You might want to catch up to your boy. He's... He ain't too friendly when he's grouchy."

"My boy...?" She looked over to see Daryl was gone and huffed. "We aren't done here."

"Yeah, we are. Your pep talks ain't gonna change shit." He crossed his arms. "Just...keep an eye on my little brother. You...actually seem good for him."

She almost smiled. "You could actually be good for Bri, too, you know. It's never too late to try." She hurried out the door.

Merle closed the door and chuckled. _Keep dreamin', kid_. He followed after Amy to make sure she was okay, finding her in a ball on his mattress. He peered in at her, she didn't acknowledge him, so he just stood there for a moment before slipping into the bathroom to shower.

Outside Carol caught Daryl feverishly pacing on the sidewalk, and she reached to grasp his arm when he whirled around and faced her.

"I give up," he proclaimed.

"Okay." Carol's brows furrowed. "On what?"

"Trying." He was shouting, and she wasn't sure why, but she was going to let him. It might help.

She stepped forward and begged, "No, don't give up on that."

"Why not? Everybody... Every-fucking-body lies!" He scoffed. "I went out of my way to keep Bri from Merle. I ended so many chances to better my career, which I haven't been able to start because of Merle and Bri and all of this respective shit! I—I could've been so much closer to my goal. Hell, I could have reached my goal by now!"

"But you wouldn't have such a strong relationship with your niece or your brother if you chose yourself."

"Does Merle even deserve a better relationship with me? Clearly all he ever cared about getting with Amy or some other piece of ass."

"You know that's not true!"

"How do you even know anything? You only met the guy once!"

"I'm a cop. I do a pretty damn good read off of people. It's my job." She studied him. "This isn't you, Daryl. I know you, and you're just angr—"

"I'm not angry," he cut her off. "I'm not even close to being angry. I am...tired."

"Tired?"

"Of bein' used. If it's not for one thing, it's another, and it never stops. It never ends, and I never realize it until it's too late." He scoffed. "What's the point of trying when all anybody's ever gonna see is somebody to use until something better comes along?"

"That's _not_ true!"

"Isn't it, though? Who are you waiting for? Let me know, so I—" He was interrupted by a sharp slap to the face, and he was thrown. He nearly tripped and fell to the ground, but he caught himself. He looked at his girlfriend, the woman he fucking loved, and saw tears in her eyes. Tears he had put there. After all he just told her, too. "Carol, I—"

"There is no one I am waiting for," she seethed through her tears. "Certainly not Shane. I know I haven't given much evidence to that, but that road has come to a dead end, and we're still going down ours. I don't want it to end. I don't want to walk away, so stop it. You don't mean that."

"I didn't mean..." He sighed. "I'm just angry. And I'm tired. And I can't process all of this. Or any of it."

"I know it's a lot, but you don't have to process all of it alone. I am here, Daryl. I'm right here, and I—I love you. I love you and all this mess that comes with you. I will sort through this with you, but you have to let me. I won't just take charge. I don't want that. I want to work together with you to figure all of this out." She searched his eyes. "Is that okay?"

"I...love you, too." He closed the space between them and gathered her up in his arms tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. "I'm sorry."

She grinned and blinked back tears, gripping his shoulders. "You're an idiot, Daryl Dixon." He chuckled into her shoulder, and she felt it vibrate through to her skin, and she kissed his neck. "But so am I, so one step at a time. We'll get Bri back home, and we'll get Rosita back, and once it's done, why don't we start on that business venture of yours? I know some investors."

He pulled back to argue why she never mentioned this before when he noticed her lack of shoes. "You're not wearing shoes."

"Yes, my feet are very cold." Her socks were wet, too. "I forgot until a couple moments ago."

"Which side is cut again?" He checked her hips, she asked why and gestured to the right. He turned her to the side and picked her up. She felt a light tug at her hip, but the wound didn't open. "You okay?"

"Not by a long shot, but...soon, I hope we'll all be okay."

"Yeah, me too." He felt his pocket buzzing and carried her inside to the steps, setting her down and pulling it out. "It's Tara."

Carol dropped a soggy sock and accepted the phone. "Did you find her?"

" _You need to get down here now."_

"What's—"

" _Right now, Carol. We're about to take out Negan and get her back, get your ass down here."_


	33. Turning Pages

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

––

SWAT was closing in on the area, Tyreese led his team that broke off into five squads—Aaron-Glenn, Nick-Aaron, Brian-Kat, Scotty-Carol to check out the inner five warehouses, and he and Shane moved in on Negan. Lilly and Tara had broken off their positions. They were both meant to hang back and wait, because Tara was still on leave, and Lilly was pregnant; so neither were meant to be on the front line. Having predicted their resistance, Scotty contacted Stillman to come and wait with Lil, but Tara talked him in circles and ducked them both on their way out.

"You really should be with Stillman." Tara looked at Lilly and her puffed little bulletproof vest.

"I'm fine to do this."

"Look," Tara met her eyes this time and assured her, "you owe me nothing here. I get you were just trying to do your job. I really do, so just go back."

"I don't think I owe you," Lilly corrected. "I'm here for her." The same her whose picture she'd slept with for over a month now, the same her whose absence haunted her, the same her who didn't deserve this. The her they were bringing home, no matter what. This wasn't a recovery; it was a rescue. Time frames be damned. Rosita Espinosa was no statistic. She was one of them, and they were bringing her out of this alive. She'd made this promise weeks ago, and she was going to follow through.

Tara sighed. "Scotty's gonna kill me," she murmured low enough that Lilly didn't hear. Hell, Rosita was going to kill her at having a pregnant cop out here. Jesus.

"She isn't in a warehouse." Lilly looked over the map of the area she'd gotten from Michonne. "There are too many people who could find here. There's bound to be a bunker or basement she's in. I'm positive I'm right. Trust me. If I can see it, I... Hang on."

They dodged members of SWAT, Lilly spotted an out of place sewer grate that was, and she approached it, struggling to open it. Tara joined her, and they hauled it open. Tara jumped down, finding a hard cement floor that sent pain vibrating up her legs. She shuddered and tested her limbs then saw Lilly following suit. She cursed and helped her down.

"I'm taking point." She readied her gun, flicking on the flashlight attachment, sweeping its beam across the area, and she moved forward carefully with Lilly behind her, scanning the area they were leaving from.

The area smelled of manure and some serious pot. Tara hadn't smelled so much pot since her college days, and she hoped she didn't get a contact high. She used the sleeve of her windbreaker to cover her nose and limit the amount she inhaled. She looked back at Lilly who gagged, but she told her she was fine. They continued onward.

Outside Carol and Scotty looked over the fully intact meth lab, Carol spotted Rosita's hair pin on the end table and looked around, calling her name. Scotty asked her what she was doing that for, and she held up the pin. They looked around the entire warehouse, but it was clean. Carol cursed and looked outside to see an open sewer grate. She frowned and walked out with Scotty following, and she, with his aid, lowered herself down. She told him to be careful since there was no way she could help him down without hurting herself. He grunted and lowered himself down, flicking on his flashlight and surveying the area.

"I...don't remember this from the map Michonne made." She looked around and noticed two ways to go, and she studied them both. "Okay, pick."

"Left." He took point and pulled his gun out, safety off.

Carol nodded and followed him, turning on the flashlight to her firearm, and she studied the area, groaning on the heavy scent of manure and chemicals. Scotty used his shirt to limit contact with both, Carol tried not to let it dizzy her, and they pushed onward. They could hear water flowing in the pipes around them, likely for the marijuana he had in hordes and for cleaning off the poor females he bought and sold and stored here. Carol couldn't wait for his trial, because he would burn for this. She would make sure of it.

Lilly and Tara pressed onward, the scent fading out slightly as they encountered vents, and Lilly smelled pollen. She hurried around the counter and called to Tara who ran to catch up with the pregnant death seeker! They found a massive horde of flowers, mostly tansies, but some were roses and tulips, and there were all fresh. They checked the cards, and they were labelled for every member of the PPD in regards for their loss. Tara smashed "her" vase of black roses and gripped her gun tightly, Lilly gripped her forearm, and Tara seethed but calmed herself.

The sound of water rushing came, they scanned the room, and mist fell through the sprinklers one by one. Only it wasn't water. It was some type of chemical that instantly wilted the flowers, and Tara pushed Lilly forward. There were sprinklers lining the ceiling of each room, and they booked it as they kicked on one by one. It was to herd them, Tara knew, but she had to follow or be burned or worse. She would so not willingly find out what those sprinklers contained. And she wouldn't let Lilly find out either. They just had to keep going.

Tara wondered how long these tunnels were, Lilly stopped running, and Tara tried to stop, but she slid on wet cement and fell. She winced and looked up at Lilly to ask her what she was doing. Her heart was pounding from running and from the mere thought of finding Rosita, and Lilly had stopped moving in the middle of the acid rain flash show. She didn't understand. Was she okay?

"Lilly?"

The sprinklers cut off, Tara climbed to her feet, and Lilly turned around. She was trying to see the words or symbol painted on the wall. Tara leaned against the wall and tried to ease the pain in her leg. She scratched it up on that shoddy ass cement job. She tried to ask Lilly again what was going on?

"I saw something back there." She raised her flashlight. "Or maybe it was someone."

Tara backtracked a bit, minding the line of water and lifted her flashlight. "Hey, fuckhead! You out there!"

"Tara." She scolded, her lips separating at a lightening thin pain slicing through her abdomen, and she groaned.

"What?" She turned the light around as Lilly held her stomach. "Shit, Lil, what's wrong? Talk to me."

"I...I don't know." She gripped Tara's hand and felt it once more, screaming this time, and Tara held her up, keeping an eye out for any movement. "I—It might be...nothing, but I think... Aah!" She nearly collapsed.

"Lilly!" Tara eased her down onto the floor. "Hey, easy now. Easy."

"It feels like..." Lilly panted and felt like fainting.

"Like?" Tara scanned the area and spotted someone standing two rooms down.

"Like I'm going into labor." The corners of her eyes prickled with tears. "I need a doctor."

"We have big issues with that." She stood up, Lilly looked over her legs, and they both found the man who took Rosita standing before them with some type of switch in his hand. He wore a nasty smile, stringy blond hair sticking to his face, and his hands were chemical burned. They never would have found any prints on him. He either burned them off or had a bad accident. Likely was intentional by that freaky ass smile on his lips.

"Look, this is between us, right? You made this between us, so let me get her out of here. All right? You can have me entirely afterward." She tried to keep Lilly from standing, but Lily wanted to support her as proper backup, searing pain aside.

"No one is going to leave here. She should not have come. It was only you I wanted." He held up the button. "If you kill me, Rosita's chamber will be flooded with hydrogen sulfide. It's on a timer, detectives, so throw over your guns."

"You son of a bitch." She jerked forward, Lilly cried out, and she squeezed her eyes shut, balling her hands into fists and lowering herself down. She slid her gun over to him and Lilly's, and she rose so he would never see her again lower than him. "I'll kill you."

He smiled. "I'm counting on it."

––

Carol and Scotty found themselves in endless tunnels. They had to stretch the length of Negan's land, each brown tunnel the same height and length as the others, and there was nothing. They couldn't find any doors or any signs of life or drugs or anything worth hiding here. It was just room after room after room of endless nothing, and they were getting a bit exhausted. You'd have to be insane to spend time down here.

Water gushed through the pipes around them, screaming followed, and Carol knew that sound. She bolted down the hall, Scotty shouted after her and hurried to catch up to her. They sped down hall after hall, and Carol followed the sound, but before she could get close, it stopped. She panted and spun around to try and find a door or window or something to tell her where that sound resonated from.

"Rosita! Rosita!" Carol screamed out, her eyes shutting as her voice boomed from the put of her stomach, her throat stinging at the volume and power behind the name. "Rosita! Please!"

"Carol, stop." Scotty's ears were ringing from the echoing and the volume she expelled. "Stop! She can't hear you. No one is down here."

"No, no." She shook her head and jogged into the next tunnel. "Rosita! Ro!"

"You're just wasting your strength. We need to leave and regroup. We can bring more people down here with supplies to—"

"Rosita!"

"Would you listen to me?!" Scotty erupted. "She isn't..." He trailed off at screaming. "Wait, that ain't..."

It wasn't Rosita who was screaming this new that sound. He hated that sound. He feared that sound, because it meant danger. It meant pain. He shouldn't be hearing that sound. She wasn't supposed to be down here let alone screaming down here like she had just been shot. Why was she down here? Why was she screaming?

"Lil." He walked by Carol then took off running. "Lilly!"

Her screams stopped, but Rosita's began again, and Carol closed her eyes to keep from crying. It switched off to Lilly, Scotty raised his gun and fired at the walls for a speaker, but there wasn't one. He screamed himself, and Carol covered her ears at the sounds of them screaming together now. She squeezed her closed eyes and tried to find something fake in the sound. A crack in the recording. She listened, her ears began to ring, and she caught a scratch in the sound. She looked up and raised her gun, firing twice into a corner that Scotty was already shot, only this time the sound stopped and a small speaker fell. Scotty crushed it and gripped his gun tightly before asking Carol to take point.

Carol sauntered down the halls, looking around for more nightmares, and she noticed something ahead. She called to Scotty, and they picked up their pace before coming across a mirror so vast in size it occupied the entire hall. It was pitch black, and they couldn't see anyone inside. They couldn't see anything, not even themselves on their side, and they weren't sure if it was a mirror or glass or why it was there.

She touched it, it felt like glass. "Kick this. Don't shoot. I don't think it's all glass."

He handed her his gun, stepping back and moving her back more, and he kicked in the glass, turning when it shuddered and crashed down. They both fled backwards at the scattering of glass, Carol lifted her gun and flashlight to what remained, and it looked like...cement? She walked over to it and braced herself before kicking it. It caved easily, and it wasn't cement. It just looked like it.

Scotty joined her, and they made a sizable hole before peeling it away with great effort, a wave of stank swept over them, and they both reeled back. Carol gagged and clamped a hand over her mouth, Scotty covered his nose with his sleeve and stated honestly it was either rotted meat, or...a dead body. That sent Carol into overdrive, and Carol tore at the wall. He prepared himself before he joined her. The pair dug and tugged and scratched their hands trying to get through, and Carol used her flashlight to see what was inside.

It was so dark in there, the ground was covered in mulch, by the dampness inside the sprinklers just paid a visit to what was inside. Carol slipped through, her shoes squishing on the wet mulch, and Scotty followed her while she investigated. It was a long room, likely the full length of this tunnel, only it was painted black and was so dark and lifeless. She hated it. Her flashlight seldom cut through it, but there was enough to see a body on the floor.

"Rosita!" She ran over, falling smack into wet mulch, and she looked over the small body lying there. She rolled her onto her back and found her familiar face. "It's her!" She checked for a pulse, and it was weak, but there.

Scotty removed his jacket out of habit and realized he made the right call, because she was naked. Carol helped her into it, removing her own over shirt to tie around her waist like an awful diaper, but oh well. Scotty lifted her up and off the damp floor, the scent of her almost as bad as the dank room, and he didn't like how light she felt.

Carol stood up and looked for an exit that was more convenient, but there wasn't one. They eased her through the hole in the wall, Carol took point to be sure no one was coming, and Scotty picked up his pace. They had medics up top. They just had to get there.

––

"It's interesting the lengths people go through to find lost loved ones." He studied the wall beside him, not looking at the two detectives. "The hope that fuels the fires of drive... It's so easy to take away."

Tara moved towards him. "Why take her away? What did you do with her?"

"She stopped the bomb that was going to take out this city." He hummed and nodded his head. "The handsome hero, the decorated detective, the...heh, broken bitch."

"Watch your mouth!" Tara hissed.

"Oh, but it's a fact. Her arm is broken, her immune system is weak, her leg infected, her brain...tortured. She reacted wonderfully to the drugs. I didn't think I could get much out of her, but the data was impressive. No wonder she's so...well thought of."

Tara's heart broke at the image of Rosita injured and drugged, and she was tempted to beat him to death with her two hands. She couldn't move much in case Lilly needed her. She couldn't move back—he was there—and she couldn't move forward. He had their guns. He could just shoot them through their unprotected heads or legs, and that was so counterproductive. She needed to get that switch from him. If Ro's room had a timer, that switch was for this room. She couldn't get Lilly away in time enough for her to avoid the fall out of whatever nasty chemical he pumped into the water system.

"I watched her, and you...were always nearby. You love her?"

"I do, which is why I am going to kick your ass for this."

"Another dirty cop." He nodded. "You and Tyreese have a lot in common—dirty, siblings to mothers, loving dead women. Cool."

"If she is dead, so are you." She would dig into Boss later, but for now, it was just them. "What do you want here? Lilly needs a doctor, so tell me so I can get her out of here."

"The twins will die along with us." He smirked. "Don't worry. Scotty is used to losing his loves. Elisa caused him to guard his heart well. Oh, wait, your baby sister fucked that out of him, didn't she?

"You son of a bitch." Lilly couldn't stand, but if she could, he would eat those words.

"Maybe he never wanted you in the first place. You were just a place holder for her. That is all you're good for. I mean, not even your own mother chose you in the end." She whined, and he cocked his head to the side. "How is Chris? I'm assuming still on drugs and in the care of a very bad man again. She does that, doesn't she? She never learns."

"What do you want?!" Tara shouted to get his attention. "Huh?! To poke at old wounds?!"

"You have plenty. You're the shut out of your family now. Your brother-in-law is trying to fuck a married woman he already has a child with. Your sister is too blind to see it, and Meghan will suffer because of it. She may be already. You aren't there to protect them, so when they end up suffering from the fallout, who will be there to save them? Not you. It's never you."

"I'll be there!"

"And Carol is going to move on with her new failing relationship. You can't stop him from coming after her. You know he'll take her away, and you will be all alone in that cruddy little apartment you hate returning to after months of screwing Rosita. Or was she screwing you? She likely exhausted the fucking pool in Philly and moved onto you. You'll wear the right pieces and fill her nice, don't you?"

Tara shook her head. "You think this throws me? You think I haven't gone there several times while we were together? I don't care anymore. I love her, and I know that she cares about me. I know that she will be a part of me, and it's okay if it doesn't work out. It's okay if we're only friends in the end, but I will always cherish all we had. It's mean everything to me. She means everything to me, and she... She was never your goal..."

"You isolate one, and the others follow. The background people are the most interesting, don't you think? Like Daryl. Ooh, his life is a mess. Abused, used, lied to, cheated on, never going to expand his business beyond a thought in his mind. And Lilly, here... Well, some people aren't meant to have happy endings, but you already know that, don't you?"

"Yeah, some people don't get to be happy. Whether it's their choice or not, some sad souls just don't get lucky and end up alone, but that's you in this situation. I'm done prattling on about this. I'm done letting Lilly suffer, so we're leaving, and you're coming with us. You don't get to die today. You don't get to worm out of the sad life you made for yourself." She walked over to him, he fired her gun, but he had no sense of aim, so it hit her right in her vest.

Another bullet pierced through his leg, he fell to the ground in pain, and Scotty moved over to them, knocking the gun away and taking the trigger from his hand. He checked on Tara, but she told him to get Lilly out of here.

"Lil?" He saw her in the corner curled up. "Oh, my God, Lilly." He ran over to her. "Did you get hit? What's goin' on?"

"I—I need a doctor." She gripped his arm. "The babies... it's... my body's trying to go into labor."

"Babies?" he exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell me it was babies?"

"Scotty, not the point. Help me."

He stroked her hair and looked back. "I sent Carol up to get help. They'll be here in a few minutes." He grasped her hand. "You'll be okay."

"I don't care if I'm okay. The babies need to be okay."

"With Rush in their DNA, how can they not be?" he smirked and kissed her hand. "Take it easy. We'll talk about this little stunt later."

The medics came within minutes, Rosita was immediately rushed to the hospital, Lilly was carefully lifted out of the bunker and taken in the next ambulance, and Tara was checked for any damage from the shot. It would be a nasty bruise, no further attention needed. Carol and Scotty's hands were disinfected and wrapped, and Scotty drove them to the hospital to find their loved ones, driving like a madman, and Carol was terrified that Tara urged him to _drive faster_. She did not want to die in this car to get to the hospital, but apparently that was a-go since she got in the death car in the first place.

They were able to stop Lilly's premature labor, though there were strict stipulations, and she would have to find a fill in for the next year or so, and Brian was already offer to cover for her. Carol and Tara would urge them not to go with Brian, but he was good in their books. They had no say, but Vera and Kat seemed happy with their input. They were not at all happy with Lilly, who sat through their lectures, and she only managed to stop them with news of this baby being babies, and Kat went all soft for babies, and Vera made jokes on how Scotty still had it.

Rosita was no news for several hours. Tara paced the lobby, Glenn and Aaron met them in the same lobby, and Maggie came a few hours later. Boss was speaking with the doctors, but they had no news with the mess from taking down Negan. There were so many wounded, and they had to work double time to save these lives. They would simply have to wait.

– – –

It was noon by the time a nurse called out Rosita's next of kin name, her parents and brother had arrived late last night, so her parents rushed over. Caesar woke up Tara who had fallen asleep to Carol stroking her hair and assuring her Rosita would be okay, and they joined his parents in time to hear how the situation was going.

Rosita had a broken arm, which they had to re-break to properly set, a major infection from a cut on her thigh—where he took the blood for those flowers—malnutrition, a infection in one of her eyes, and she would need to undergo physical therapy to help with her thigh and eventually her arm once it healed. She had lost a lot of weight, and they were feeding her liquids while keeping her sedated. They didn't want anyone in to see her just yet, and the nurse wouldn't even let them argue that, but she said they look in on her. There was a guard at her door, so they couldn't slip inside, but at least they could see her.

She didn't look familiar to Tara at all, lying there small and pale and unconscious, and Tara wished more than anything that Scotty had killed that asshole. She balled her hands into fists, and she wanted to find him and end him, but she felt another hand gently pry her fist apart. She looked down when two hands covered hers, and it was Rosita's mother holding her hand, her eyes locked on her baby lying in the next room.

"What's with all those tubes?" Caesar whispered. "How can she even breathe with all those stupid tubes?"

"Caesar." Andrea set a hand over his chest, already holding his hand, and he shook his head. "She'll be okay."

"She doesn't need all those tubes."

Andrea rubbed his arm. "Hey, it's okay. It's just medicine and food."

He inhaled and turned away from the window. "I can't—I can't. That's not..." He released his wife's hand and lowered himself down onto the floor, back against the wall, knees to his chest. "How is that her?"

"She's still alive." Andrea sat beside him. "That's how it's her."

"He's always been the emotional one." Sal pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and knelt down by his son. "You heard the nurse, and you know your sister. If anyone can get better on sheer spite alone, it's her."

He laughed through his tears, accepting handkerchief. "True. Her spite game is strong."

"You two get home and take care of my grandkids. We'll take care of her. You need rest." He winked at Andrea, and she hoped Caesar listened. "That's an order."

"Dad, I'm not a kid anymore."

"I'm still your father. Go home. We'll call you when she can have visitors. She'll want to see Liv and Demi."

"I can't just leave her. We only got her back a few hours ago, and it's been a month since I last saw her. I can't leave."

"It's not leavin' if I kick your butt out the door," Sal lightly threatened with a fist, and Caesar laughed weakly again. "Get outta here. Bring me back some coffee."

"If you want to wake her up, just hold the coffee under her nose." He smirked at his dad, and he got knocked jokingly in the chin. "It's true. You and she are just...coffee."

"Raise you and see how much you need coffee," Marie responded.

"Thanks, Ma."

"Come on, baby, let's go." Andrea laced her fingers through his. "You know Liv won't eat breakfast unless you cook it, and we can pick up some new clothes for her. Maybe a...plant? I know flowers are out, but a succulent?"

He sighed. "I love you, Andrea, but that sucks. We are not getting her a cactus. We'll have the kids draw her something. It's free, and it's less likely to trigger her."

"Have them draw me something. I need some color." Sal stood up, rubbing his back. "And my Liv draws better than Christian's little granddaughter. I need proof."

"Dad, don't use my kids art to make your neighbors feel crummy."

"You come and meet him, and you'll be throwing Liv's art at him."

"He's been our neighbor for, like, eternity, and he's your best friend. I know him, and you're petty, old man."

"You ever wonder who she takes after," Marie whispered to Tara, "just know you're looking at him."

She smiled softly and set a hand on the glass. "When she wakes up, could I be there?"

"That's for family." Sal turned to Tara.

"Oh." She nodded and tried to keep tears out of her eyes. How long would it be until she could see her and touch her? How long until she was really home? It was all so real yet there was a glass between them, and reality of her being home couldn't reach Tara. She was so far away.

"You can hold Liv," Sal continued. "But I get her hand."

She looked over at him. "What?"

"I helped make it, so it's my right as her father to hold it when we get in there. You can hold the baby." He smiled at her, and she nearly began to cry. "But I am tempted to not let you in there. She might wake up sooner and go off on me for not letting her love in. What do you think?"

"I think you're definitely right." Tara smiled at him. "She wouldn't let it go."

He set a hand on her shoulder and looked in on his daughter. "I'm old-fashioned, so come talk to me before you ask, mi amor."

Tara couldn't process his words at the moment. She heard them, but she was distracted by trying not to wail like a baby. She couldn't wait to tell Rosita she was parent approved. She wondered how Rosita would react after everything that's happened to them. She hoped it was with laughter. She wanted to hear that sound more than any other sound in the world right now.

– – –

Unfortunately by the time Rosita began to come around, they had a case. A couple of teens found a dead woman in their skate park, Boss wanted all hands on deck, and Tara had been reinstated a few days before. Boss knew it was rough to have Rosita finally lucid and work intervene, but Rosita would want them working this case to find out who killed a thirty-one year old mother of two, and they knew that, so all hands on deck—save for Carol.

She had requested off to attend Amy's court date, and Tara wished her luck with that. Carol was confident with the final decision here. She had pulled in a lot of favor and requested a new judge. She used the past trials with Merle to get him changed, and she was able to get a very compassionate Deanna Monroe to take over the trial. She knew that girl was coming home with them.

"Hey." Carol met Daryl outside the court house still in her work clothes, but it was court approved. "Am I late?"

"No, Amy is." He checked his watch. "She sent me on ahead. She's always had real bad morning sickness. If she isn't here...we're dead in the water."

"She'll be here." She didn't change the judges and the court date for them to be dead in the water, so it'd be fine. "She'll be here."

He nodded. "I'm just nervous. I hate courtrooms."

"So do I, but I know it'll work out." She scanned the street and dared to ask. "I know you and Amy are...somewhat speaking, but have you spoken to Merle?"

"No."

"And why not?" She met his eyes. "You can't let it fester."

"I won't, but I don't see why I have to fix everything between me and him. What effort does he make?"

Her jaw fell open instead of a reply falling out, and she set a hand on his arm. "A lot."

Daryl followed her gaze and saw Merle with Amy. He was wearing a suit, and he had shaved and cleaned up, and he was helping Amy walk. She was pale and trying not to throw up, but she looked better than she did this morning. Daryl could see Merle was holding her hand, and he wondered if this was or could be more than a show of support for her. He couldn't be sure with Merle. He...clearly...was full of surprises.

"You came." Amy greeted Carol with a hug, and she smiled at Daryl. "I really appreciate this."

"Let's get you inside. I know a judge who loves crackers. We'll see if I can talk him out of a few." Carol took her hand and nodded at Merle to let him know she would take care of Amy, and they walked in together.

Merle tugged on the collar to the shirt, his lips curling downward, and he felt stupid. "I hate this thing."

"It's a suit." Daryl studied him. "I'm surprised you know how to put it on."

"Had to wear somethin' for my court dates, remember?" He smirked and sighed. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't tell you 'bout me and her. It's been goin' on for years, if you want the truth. We moved around her relationship with Randall. They were broken up or some shit, and she came over for a drink only, but...one thing led to another."

"Why are you tellin' me this?"

"Just listen. Randall had left a voicemail saying he loved her and wanted to stop fighting." It was kind of fucked up, because around that time, she was holding onto him like a lifeline, screaming out his name and asking for him to not stop. She ignored the call, and they kept going... "Fuck, man."

"What?"

"It's my fault this shit's happenin'. If she wouldn't have come over, if I wouldn't have had an angle like I always got with her, she wouldn't have been guilted into going back to that asshole. Bri would be in her own bed, and Amy wouldn't be pregnant." He swallowed. "It's mine too."

He chuckled with an eye roll. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." They were dressed and about to part ways so he could check the books downstairs, and she needed to pick up Bri. She asked to see his office out of the blue, and they ended up on his desk. It was her fault with that short skirt and those boots. The skirt he removed, but not those boots.

"You're a dumbass."

"She set me up," he argued. "She knew what she was doin'."

"You both need to either own up to the fact that you love each other or cut this shit out." He sighed. "She wanted another kid so Bri could have a siblin'. I heard her tellin' Andrea over the phone, but I thought that was...future shit."

"And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I didn't know you were doin' her on the side, so why would I?" He shook his head. "And I'm sure she would have asked before just trying."

"How do you know?"

"Because her financial situation is a nightmare. She lost the apartment a couple days ago, her job cut her, and she has money saved, but...it has to go for the baby. She doesn't have insurance anymore."

"She didn't tell me."

"Yeah, you and your angles, Merle. Why would she? You and she have a different relationship than me and her. She tells me more than she tells you, and I'm trying to find her a place. There's a townhouse not too far from Carol's friends. It's by a nice school and playground. I's a good part of town, and it's three bedrooms. I'm gonna take them there after this to check it and write out a check for the deposit and an advance on rent for half a year so she can get back on her feet."

"Where the hell did you get that kind of money?"

"It's what I have saved for my business. It's never gonna get anywhere, so why not?" He shrugged a shoulder.

"I can't let you do that, little brother. Those are my kids—"

"Which is why I have to do this." He pushed off the beam. "They're my family, and I can't house her forever, but I can get her started."

He slipped into the courthouse, Merle lingered outside before leaving the steps, and Daryl found Carol and Amy speaking with the lawyer who took on the case pro bono—another gift from Carol. Amy kept looking over at her daughter and waving, Bri would wave back, and Daryl could tell the air in the courtroom was light. His nerves began to unclench, and he joined them.

"Where's Merle?" Amy looked around. "He said he would be here for this. She's his daughter. Why would he leave?"

"He's probably smoking his nerves away." Carol rubbed her back. "He'll be here."

"I'm fine if he doesn't. I have you both here." She smiled at them. "And the little asshole that keeps making me puke, but that's our secret."

Daryl laughed. "You made the kid."

"I know." She bit into the cracker and met Daryl's eyes. "I am sorry. You know I love you and am so thankful for you. I just...feel like a stupid teenager when I'm around your brother. I...I wish I wasn't so weak, but—"

"You're not weak." He offered her a smile. "It's just familiar, and the world isn't. It feels nice to have that, and I get it. I don't approve of it, especially with the second kid on the way, but it ain't my place to judge. I'm gonna do all I can, because that little girl will never be in better hands than yours, and this kid here isn't gonna grow up not knowing her."

She hugged him, he jolted from the impact, and he wrapped an arm around her to semi-embrace her back. Carol's eyes shined up at him with affection and possible arousal, but he wasn't sure on that second one. He smiled at her and told Amy it would be okay, and Carol rubbed her back carefully.

The judge came in then, Carol frowned and wondered why, because the hearing hadn't begun. Deanna waved Carol over and spoke with her briefly, and Carol thanked her for that information. She spoke with and dismissed the lawyer, Amy and Daryl studied her and asked what was going on, and she held up a finger before speaking with the social worker.

Amy looked at Daryl when Carol picked up her daughter. "Why is she doing that?"

"I don't know." He watched Carol holding Bri and talking to her, and Bri whispered in her ear. "I—I'm gonna go see."

Carol carried Bri over to them, setting Brianna on the floor and advising her to carefully hug her mother. Amy dropped down onto her knees to embrace her little girl, and Daryl asked what happened. Carol relayed the information Deanna imparted. While they were sorting out the drug and supply lines and sellers from Negan's hit last week, Randall was sold out. He gave a full confession for a lighter sentence, and the results from Amy's interviews and drug test confirmed this was a huge waste of time. Deanna dismissed the charges and offered Amy congratulations on her pregnancy. Though paperwork couldn't be avoided so easily.

"He gets out earlier?" Amy's eyes filled with panic, and she held her stomach.

"No. We are still processing all of the..mess from that hit, and he'll get pinned for something else. I promise. No one involved with Negan will get off easy."

"You're awesome." She hugged her again. "Thank you so much."

Daryl was holding Bri, and he kissed her cheek, whispering in her ear, and he set her down when Amy let go of Carol. Carol eyed him but bent down when Bri motioned for her to, she kissed Carol's cheek and whispered into her ear.

"Da says to say thank you, and I mean it. He also says he loves you, and I love you too." She smiled at her. "You're really pretty, and you make him happy. You're aces."

Carol was sure she'd have to pour out the remains of her mushy heart at this point, but she embraced the girl and kissed her braids, squeezing her. "Thank you."

"I miss all the fun?" Merle entered the room, hands in his pockets.

"It's the candy man!" Bri ran over to him and held her hand out. "Please?"

"Candy man?" Daryl was trying not to laugh at the implications. "What?"

"Wait, how do you know him?"Amy never introduced them. "Or...well, candy man. How did you find her?"

"I...found her school." He smiled down at her and handed her a tootsie pop. "Count it for me."

She nodded and unwrapped it, letting him guide her back to her mom.

"You...you met her without me?" Amy's mouth was open slightly in offense. "Why would you do that? We set ground rules."

"And broke 'em," he added. "Several times and often over my desk."

Daryl shuddered. He used that desk. A lot. Carol pulled him away from this, because it didn't seem right for them to be involved, but they could watch from the pews. No harm in watching, right? She had time.

"That doesn't excuse it." She shook her head. "And that's not a real reason. You don't want to be involved. So why? What good does it do?"

"You want somethin' real?"

"Yeah, I do."

"Okay, fine. I sought her out and got to know her, because she's my kid. And how lax is your parenting that all I had to do was give her candy for her to talk to me?"

"Merle!" Amy glared, a wave of queasiness coursing through her, and she covered her mouth.

"See, that one agrees with me." He smirked.

"Shut up." She had to sit down and took deep breaths. "Once this passes...you're dead. And you."

Bri spun around to face her, pulling the sucker out of her mouth. "Me?"

"Daryl, could you?" She couldn't speak right now.

"You don't take candy from strangers, and you don't talk to them—ever." He scolded her from about fifteen feet away. "You know that."

"I didn't!" She frowned. "I didn't."

"You don't know him," Daryl corrected.

"Yeah, I do."

"Well, now you do, but before—"

"I saw pictures," she cut him off and went up to Merle, taking his hand in both of hers. "He was in your pictures, and I saw him in the hall with Mommy."

Amy lifted her head. She didn't remember that. She did see Merle now and then, but Bri wasn't with her. Unless... "Oh, shit." That morning in May she went to pick up Bri from a stay with Daryl, Merle caught her in the hall. God, they were fooling around, too. Shit.

Merle thought back. "Wait..."

"You had your tongue in my ear," Amy reminded him.

"It was grossss!" Bri's face scrunched out.

"Oh!" Merle nodded. That morning he had got in new copper pipes and had to sign for them. Amy had on that tight dress, and she teased him before leaving him to rub it out himself. He saw the kid, too. He just put it out of his head. He really shouldn't have. He was groping Amy's ass. Bad first impression. "Oh..."

"Mommy let me talk to other adult she's kissed," Bri argued. "He brought me my favorite candy, too, so Mommy musta told him."

"Bri, baby, you always have milk duds with you." Amy buried her face in her hands.

"Nuh-uh! You told him." She huffed. "And he's my daddy, so it's okay."

Amy groaned and dropped her hands. "Okay, fine, he is your dad. He is your dad, and it is fine right in this moment, young lady, but we are having a long talk tonight."

"Why?" she whined. "I didn't do anything."

"Hey, she's right." Merle knelt down and studied her face. Her caretaker had braided her hair and put her in a purple dress with a white belt on her upper torso. She looked so like her mother, but she got his curls and his eyes. "Damn, you're so pretty."

"Merle!" Amy hissed. "Language, please."

He rolled his eyes and handed her a box. "Give this to her for me, please."

"Okay." She closed her little hand around it and handed him the sucker, which he accepted and popped into his mouth.

"Yeah, don't give that back to her," Daryl told Merle, who flipped him off.

Carol chuckled and silently looked on.

Amy felt her stomach calm and spotted Brianna closing in. She caught her face in her hands, squishing her little cheeks, and Bri smiled at her. "You know I love you so, so much, but you need to tell me about stuff like this. Whether I know the adult or not, tell me who approaches you."

"I'm sorry. He told me not to tell."

"Okay, if anyone says that, tell me." She sent Merle another glare. "Please."

"He said that too." She giggled.

"Well, good." She looked down at the box in her hand and smiled at her. "What is this? Did those nice people give you something?"

"Not this." She held it up. "It's from Daddy."

"Yeah, I'm not used to that at all." She laughed and accepted the box. "Well, why is he giving it to me?"

She shrugged.

"Okay, let's see what's inside." Probably something gross, like a celebratory condom or something. On that thought. "Merle, what is this?"

"Just open the d—darn thing." He bent down by Bri and held her shoulders. "It's fine."

She opened it and found a key inside. It was clearly a key to an apartment, and she didn't understand what this was supposed to mean. That misunderstanding reflected on her face as her lips drew a line, and her eyebrows knitted together. She picked it up to ask what this was and almost dropped the box entirely at what rested beneath the key.

"Merle, what is this?" It wasn't like the first time she asked, her voice was shaky, tears in her grey eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hand.

"It's me askin' you to marry me."

Daryl was floor and stared at Carol with laughing confusion on his lips, and Carol was grinning like an idiot.

The silver twisted band ring sat there with small but sparkling teardrop cut diamond stared at her, and she shook her head. This was a dream. This couldn't be real. In what bizarre world was it real that Merle Dixon was proposing to her?

"Go get your uncle, baby." Merle lightly pushed her in his direction, Bri ran up to him, and Daryl held her so she could see this scene unfold like the rest of them.

"Is this a joke?" Amy couldn't meet his eyes, the hand that once held her mouth fell to her lap. "This can't be real."

"Why can't it be real?"

"Because it's you!" She lifted her head. "You don't get married. You don't marry me. It just doesn't happen."

"Well, it might happen." He pulled her close in her wheeled chair, taking her hand with the key. "This is the key to my apartment. I have room for you and Bri and the baby. I can build a damn new room, if that ain't enough. Me and Daryl built the place ourselves, so we can do it."

She was quivering, and she was trying not to. If this was real, she didn't want to be this huge of a mess. "You mean that?"

"I know the ring ain't flashy, but we got a kid comin', so we're gonna need that money."

"No, the ring's fine." She smiled at him. "I love the ring."

"I know you're wonderin' why I'm doin' this, and it's 'cause of Daryl. He made me think about why I've been livin' my life this way. I stopped all my heavy shit when we broke up. I..hurt you, and I'm sorry. You deserved a better man, and I don't know that I am a better man, but I do know somethin' has always kept me goin' back to you. Or you to me." He searched her eyes. "I don't know if we'll last a month or a year takin' this real, but I do know I miss Bri. I barely know her, but I miss her. When I hear her in the hall to see Daryl, I get excited. Just so damn excited, and it hurts 'cause it ain't me she's comin' to see. She doesn't even know me."

She snuffled and nodded him on.

"And I miss you," he admitted. "I wake up after hours of havin' you all around me, and I'm alone. I hate it, and when you come back, I go through it all over again. I can have you in any way you let me during those times, but not the way I want you."

"And how do you want me?"

"In my life. You and Bri and this kid, too. I want to be involved. I want to quit bein' in the background and quit havin' to bribe my kid to talk to her." Amy laughed, and he smirked. "Besides if I get to have you in my bed every night, I ain't got nothin' else to look for."

"Oh, yeah? What if it gets boring? What if the heat is only there because we never know when we'll do it again? What if some woman down the line who is hot and wants a good time comes to you and—"

"If I even look at another woman while married to you, do you think Daryl or Andrea would let me live?"

"No jokes, Merle. I need to know you won't fuck around behind my back."

"I won't. I know I don't inspire trust or fidelity, but I've never stepped out on you."

"Never?" She hadn't thought about that before.

"Never. Why the hell would I? You treat me like a damn king in bed, Amy. Hell, it's why I barely let you leave that bed." He laughed softly. "If I get to have you with me until the end then I'm damn lucky."

"But do you love me?" She wiped under her eye. "Or do you love my body and how it makes you feel so damn good?"

"I've never been in love," he confessed, "so I don't know what that feels like, but I know that it...stung when you'd leave and tell me you had plans with a guy. Those times when I would just lend you money? I've never known pain like that, and the sick joy I'd get when you would come back weeks or months later after y'all broke up? Hell, those were the best days."

It was true. He was definitely zealous on those days. The already great sex became epic, and they would both have bruises and sore limbs afterward. He always finished those nights by going down on her, and damn, he would be so into it. She would have to beg for an end, and he would actually get grumpy with her. It was cute. He was cute...

"I need you, Amy. You keep me focused on shit I need to get done, and you...you make me feel safe." He lowered his voice with each word. "You make me happy. And if I can make you feel this way too then I think we have a shot."

"But is it love?"

"I don't know. Me and love don't...mix like this, so I don't know."

She nodded and sucked in air through the thickness in her mouth, swallowing and handing him the box back. "Here."

"Amy, I—" He felt hollow and almost like ice was running down his spine. He swallowed hard and took the box back. He didn't know what more he could say. He felt like a fool, and he wanted to get very drunk and pretend this didn't happen while he rotted away in his bedroom.

Daryl held Bri closer and moved in to comfort his brother with Carol holding his hand tightly. It would be a team effort of prying booze out of his hand and trying to keep his raging fits to one or two an hour after they were unable to take the booze away.

"You have to put it on my finger, Merle. It's what a gentleman does."

He chuckled out a half-cry. "Seriously?"

"I know you love me, and I love you, too, so yes. I will be your wife. I'll live with you. I'll probably throw up on you, too, but that is our own fault."

He pulled the ring out and let the box fall before pausing. "Where does this go?" She laughed and wiggled her left ring finger. "Thanks." He slipped it onto on the finger. "I stole your grandma's ring, by the way. I had to the size."

"Of course." She laughed and stood up with him, kissing him.

"Wait, what's happening?" Carol had her view blocked so now they were just suddenly kissing.

"I got myself a wife." Merle smirked, wrapping an arm around her. "Know any judge who can make it official?"

"You don't want a wedding?" Daryl was asking Amy.

"Maybe we can have one, but we have a baby coming, and I have to move my things out of storage." She shrugged a shoulder. "I just want Andrea here."

"Now?" He needed clarity. "You're getting married right now?"

"Why not? Everyone's all dressed up, and it's one less thing I can worry about."

"Yeah, little brother, and you can watch the kid while we honeymoon it out." He winked at him.

"So romantic." She rolled her eyes and looked at her daughter. "How do you feel about this?"

"I'm confused," she admitted. "But I think I'm happy?"

"I'll explain it." Daryl pulled his phone out and handed it to Carol. "Get a reservation at that nice Italian place. I helped the owner out last week. He can fit us in."

Things went quickly from there, Carol set up their dinner reservations and found Deanna to ask for another favor, Amy was able to get Andrea and Caesar and the kids down to the courthouse since they were coming anyway to help her through whatever decision was made. Liv had drawn up flowers for Rosita, so Daryl and Carol twisted them into paper flowers while Andrea demanded to know what the hell was going on, and she proceeded to threaten Merle that should he hurt her, she was going to destroy him. Caesar tried to lighten that threat, but Andrea wouldn't stop glaring.

They went outside to a small courtyard filled with some greenery, Andrea offered Amy their grandmothers pearl bracelet for something old and borrowed, Carol was deemed their something blue by Merle who smirked at her, and their baby was something new—and precious, but not on the list. Deanna married them and wished Amy luck with this one. Merle had ran into her a couple of times when he was waiting for his time in the courtroom. She lectured him, and she helped him get his business going. He could fail himself but not her. He was glad she was the one here to marry them. He felt more threatened by her than by Andrea. It had to be that motherly aura. Damn, why did she look so proud?

Their reception was a lovely, private lunch at Daryl's expense, the owner lowered the price massively, and Carol was introduced to the full family for the first time. It was really nice to get to talk to Merle, and he was so calm about this decision. Daryl was happy Merle was relaxed and respectful, though he did make some lewd comments about Carol's hips and ass. She wasn't nearby, she had been dragged off to dance with Liv and Bri, and she'd taken off the jacket. It was true, but Daryl still glared at him.

"So, how serious is it now?" Merle set his glass of water down and looked over at his brother.

"We ain't about to get married, I'll tell you that."

"You meet her friends yet?"

"No." He glanced over at Caesar and Andrea. "His sister is still in the hospital, and I think they have a new case, so it'll be a minute."

He nodded. "You missed meetin' 'em for Bri?"

"Yeah. I tried to get the social worker to release her into my care, but she wouldn't listen to me. She had it out for Amy, and she wouldn't even let me see her. But fuck her." He spotted Bri and Carol in the middle of the _Cha Cha Slide_ , and a smile crossed his lips. "She's with us."

"Yeah, I gotta clean those rooms out for guns," Merle commented. "I lost a .45 somewhere in there."

"Oh, Christ, Merle."

"What? She's with you until we get that space sorted out. That's okay, right?"

"Since when do you care about disrupting my life?"

"Since I realized how much of it I'm fuckin' up." He exhaled, and Daryl eyed him. "I'm sorry about all of it. I'll stop forcin' so much shit off on you, and I'll make up for what I've made you lose out on."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yeah, I do. And I don't mind givin' this guy I know a call to help you start your business up."

"Thanks, but Carol and I have that covered."

"Good, 'cause I don't wanna owe him my life after I just signed it off to Amy." He snickered.

"You better keep this vow, Merle. If you keep anythin', keep this." He didn't mean for it to come out as a threat, but it still came across as one.

"I will." His eyes found his wife and his daughter, and he felt a warmth in his chest. "Trust me."

Carol sat down by Andrea and asked how Rosita was doing since by marriage she was family and could check up on her, helping herself to another glass of wine.

"Astonishingly well. She's healing well, and she's able to eat, but they're staying with liquids to build her up to solids. She seems...I don't know, disbelieving, in a way. I think the drugs he used on her messed with her head. It's going to take time for her to come to terms with everything being real, and this asshole being locked up."

"Do you think we can see her?"

"Sal and Marie love that you guys love her and want to see how she is, but they don't want to overwhelm her. It's going to be a few weeks at least." She rubbed her arm as a show of support. "I'll keep you updated. Or Tara can."

"Tara can see her?" She was thrilled to hear at least one of them could be with her, and Tara deserved it more than the rest of them. She was her girlfriend after all, and they would respect that. Or whatever became of them once she was out of the hospital. "That's great. I was worried none of us would be able to."

"I'll bet." She tucked hair behind her ear. "Will he be good to her? I don't know Merle, and I need to be sure."

"Honestly this is only my...third time meeting Merle? I don't know him, but Daryl is okay with this. I trust Daryl's decision. He knows Merle best, so...yeah, I believe he will be good to her."

"Is Daryl good to you?"

She set her glass down. "Is Caesar good to you?"

She saw her point and laughed. "I'm sorry. That's rude. I didn't mean to come off as such. I was seriously asking. He seems to adore you."

She didn't know how, to be honest. She swallowed and drew in air. "He treats me very well. Better than any man I've ever had or met."

"Good." She waved at Liv. "I'm glad there are still some good men in the world. I thought I'd taken the last one."

They celebrated for an hour longer, Andrea and Caesar had to get the kids down for their naps, Amy was ready a nap herself, and Merle wanted to show Bri around the apartment. Well, he didn't want to, but she persisted, so he was pretending to want to. It made Amy happy, so he'd roll with it.

Daryl paid the bill and left a grateful tip, wondering where Carol had gone to. He picked up her jacket and checked the bathroom to be sure she was all right. She'd had quite a bit to drink, and he wasn't concerned by the reason, just the amount.

He found her on the floor to the bathroom, her blouse untucked and half unbuttoned. He tried not to laugh. "You okay?"

"Buttons suck." She stopped trying to button them and grinned up at him. "Heeeyy."

"Why are they undone? The buttons?"

"They do that, because I don't button them in the first place. I should..but I tuck it in anyway, so why waste my life like that?"

"That's actually a good point. C'mere." He helped her get onto her feet, she hit the wall when he let go, and he steadied her. "You okay?"

"I'll be a lot better once you lose the pants and shirt."

"Carol, you're drunk. Let me take you home."

"I might be, but I have a condom and this place is empty." She pulled a condom out of her pocket. "I also have half a candy bar, but I lost the wrapper somewhere."

"Wow, that is...Where did you get a condom?" He wished he could record this, but he would need his hands to keep her from hurting herself.

"Your brother." She raised her arm to point at where he was. "He doesn't need 'em 'cause she's already knocked up, but I'm not, so."

"That figures." He stepped in closer to pray her off the wall, and she curled her arms around his neck. "Can you walk?"

"Why would I need to?" She smirked. "I know you can just hold me up, and the wall can support us."

"We're not having sex here, okay? Give me the condom."

"No. I like to put it on—you know that. I like your penis. Have I told you that? Because I do."

"Oh, my God, Carol, please. Let me get you home, and I'll get you some water."

She didn't seem to hear him as she continued to talk. "I usually don't like giving head, but I like you a lot, so I don't mind. I like how you grab my hair when I do it. It's sexy." She smiled at him. "Do you like my pussy? You spend a lot of time down there, so I think you do."

He could hear the staff collecting their plates and glasses, and he wanted to die. The bathroom wasn't far, and Carol wasn't being quiet at all. He wouldn't be coming back to this place ever again. Or he would and would bring her so they could share this moment and want to die together.

"Will you play with my butthole?" This she whispered. "Just like a finger or two when you're inside me. I've always wanted to ask, but you're so shhhhhyyy. I feel like we're a lot closer now, so pretty please?"

"That's it." He reached down and picked her up, carrying her out of the restaurant.

"The next time you see me, I am gonna be full of Dixon babies!" She waved to the staff and pointed to Daryl, throwing away the condom.

He just kept walking. At this point there was nothing else he could do. He dropped her into the backseat of her car, minding her head and trying to get her legs inside, but she was trying to remove her pants. He honestly had less fight out of Bri when it came time to dress her when she was three. Though the strength level was the same. Drunk Carol did not put any thought into how much force she used.

After fifteen minutes of fighting, he closed the door and caught a few of the staff watching from the window. He waved once before walking around to the driver's seat and getting the fuck out of there. He rolled down his window and let the cold air wash over his flushed body. He couldn't believe her at all. He'd seen her drunk before. Hadn't he? Maybe drunk and horny was different.

He glanced back to see how she was and felt the heat return to his body. "Carol?"

She was laid on in the backseat, her shirt completely unbuttoned now, a white lace bra peeking out, and she had her pants undone. She was masturbating, pushing her hips upward and moaning, grabbing her breast through her bra.

"Yes, say my name again." She gasped.

"I'm just going to drive now." He shook his head and tried not to be distracted by her just going to town on herself. All of her moans went to his groin, and his grip tightened on the wheel. He was relieved when she finally came and purred softly in bliss, and he could focus on not stepping out of the car with a half undressed cop and a hard on.

She giggled and sat up, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "How far away is your apartment?"

"You're gonna choke me." He pulled on her arms. "Stop."

"Taste me." She traced her fingers across his lips.

"Carol, stop." He hit the breaks, she fell back, and he checked the mirror to make sure she was all right. If she didn't stop, they were going to get hit or hit someone. He didn't like it, but he had to do that. "You okay?"

"No." She curled up on the seat. "You don't want me, do you?"

"I'm just trying to drive and get us home in one piece."

"That's not it." She was starting to cry. "You don't love me."

"That's you being drunk and irrational. You know how I feel."

"No one should love me."

He frowned and checked the rear view mirror. "That's not true."

"I'm a horrible person. And it has to be true. He told me so all the time." She wrapped a hand around her neck. "I can save as many people as I want, but I'm still horrible. I shouldn't... I shouldn't be alive."

"What?" Daryl pulled over in front of her apartment. "Don't say that!"

"He said it all the time..."

"I don't give a damn what anyone said." He got out of the car and unlocked her door, bending down to straighten up her pants and shirt. "You deserve to be alive and loved."

"I cause you problems, don't I? You can't love someone who causes you problems. You can't. I should know. He didn't love me. She didn't either. That's why she left. And he was mean. He was mean, because I deserved it. And he's coming."

"What are you talking about, Carol? Who?"

"I don't want him to come back, Daryl." She was shaking. "Why does he keep coming back?"

"He who?" His heart broke as she shook before him, terrified, and there was nothing he could do. "Talk to me."

She covered her mouth and gagged. "Oh, God."

He moved when she pushed on his shoulder, and she threw up onto the street. He pulled her hair back, and he let her empty her stomach before he helped her inside. He helped her out of her clothes and onto the bed. He found an overnight bag of his and changed into sweats and a t-shirt, calling Tara to see who might be coming.

" _What's up? How did it go?_ "

"Great. Amy got married."

" _Uhh... Did...did I miss the details of today, or what?"_ She laughed nervously. " _Seriously did Carol say wedding? I can send...flowers._ "

"No, it turned into a wedding, and that's not why I called you. Look, Carol got drunk at lunch, and she started—"

" _To get super embarrassing? Yeah, she does that. Did she touch herself? She does that sometimes, too. I think it's a comfort thing. Don't worry. After that, she passes out._ "

"Yeah, she did that, but then she started saying some depressing things like she shouldn't be loved or alive."

" _What?_ " Her voice was numb. " _Did she... Did she mention anyone named Ed?_ "

"No, who is that?"

" _Her...father. I would let her tell you about him, but if she's freaking out drunk, he must be in town or on his way in. Look, he is literal shit in human form. He used to abuse her all the time once her mother was gone, and he comes back now and then. He's dangerous. He has been obsessed with Carol since her mother left, and just please protect her. She's tough as nails, but he...he brings back a lot of shit for her. Don't let him hurt her_ _._ "

"Why is he still walking around and not in prison?" Daryl seethed, digging his nails into the wall.

" _He's good at ditching town. He lives off the grid, so we can't track him. I've tried to arrest him at least a dozen times, but I have no proof of anything. Carol and her mother never reported him, so he has no record. And every time I catch him with Carol, I have to tend to her, and he gets away._ "

"What does he do to her?" He looked into her bedroom. "Tara, please, tell me he doesn't—"

" _I don't think so. He knocks her around a lot, but I don't think he's raped her. He...he used to make her shower in front of him, though, and he'd...jerk off to her. That's the most she'd tell me._ "

"Why didn't she tell me?" His voice was a whisper, a million thoughts zooming around in his brain, and he couldn't focus. He couldn't feel a single limb or bone in his body, not even the chips of paint that dug under his nails.

" _It took her six and a half years to tell Shane. I shouldn't tell you, but I'm sick of him hurting her. I can't be there for her right now, but you can. He drives a beat up Cherokee with worn Army stickers on them, and there's a picture of him in my black dresser. It's in a tin can. It's out of date, but it's an idea. Keep a look out for him. I'll let Boss know and see if we can set up a watch_."

"If I see him, I'm gonna kill him."

" _Find him in the right situation, and I'll clear your for it_." She was serious. " _Kiss her for me. I have to go._ "

He lowered the phone and checked on her snoozing away, smiling softly. He set his phone down on the end table and went to Tara's room, finding the black dresser and the tin inside, sitting on the edge of her bed. He found a picture of Carol as a little girl, and he smiled wider at how precious she was, his eyes moving to the man cut out in the background. He moved that picture aside and found one of Tara and Carol grinning widely outside their college. They were happy, though he could see a faint black eye on Carol and bruises on her neck.

He swallowed and moved it aside to find the picture of Ed. Edward Peletier. He studied the man's face, and he looked like a hateful son of a bitch. He burned the image into his brain, and he noticed bumps on the photo, so he turned it over and saw writing.

 _Ed Peletier, stepfather. Age forty-two, height: 6'2, weight: fluctuates, hair color: black with dustings of grey, eye color: washed out green._

It was written in Tara's handwriting, and the age was scratched out but not updated. He stared at the picture and the handwritten words, and he lost track of time and his surroundings as Ed's eyes burned into his. He thought over all the ways this could be resolved, and he knew that the only two that would work would be either prison or death.

"There you are."

He lifted his eyes and found Carol standing in the doorway with her nightclothes on now. "Hey." He closed the tin and set it back.

"What were you doing?" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Were you snooping? Because that isn't okay."

"Tara asked me to check her drawer for gift for Rosita," he lied. "It ain't there."

"Did it fit in the tin?"

"Yeah, it was a bracelet."

She nodded. "I have to apologize, don't I? I can't remember what for, but I feel like I embarrassed you."

"Nah, it's okay."

"You're a bad lair. I found a melted candy bar in my pants, and my panties... Well, I know I did _something_." She stepped closer. "I'm sorry. I... I have weird drunken stages, and I'm sorry."

"It's fine, just told a bunch of staff you'll be full of my baby." He forced a laugh to try and lighten the mood.

"I did?" She gasped and cupped her hands over her mouth. "Oh, my God, I am so sorry."

"You also want me to finger you—"

"Stop it." She was blushing and backed up. "I said this in front of other people? Oh, no, no."

"Just...like ten or so." His smile began natural at her embarrassment, and he decided to move Ed out of his head for this moment. "And you like my dick."

"I am never going back there." Her eyes were wide with horror, hands now pushing hair out of her face, and she wanted to crawl in a hole. "Please tell me your family had left?"

"Yeah, that was a special treat for me and the staff."

"I need more aspirin." She heaved a sigh. "Wait, what did I want you to finger?"

"You wanna know?"

"Yes, I want to know." She walked over to him. "Was it...dirty? Because I once told an ex I wanted him to finger a pie while I watched. He judged me so hard. We only dated for a couple weeks, and I was drugged. I had to be." She and Tara were pretty young and testing things out, so... Eesh.

He grasped her hips and pulled her closer. "You masturbated in the car, you know."

"Wow, okay, I'm sorry. I'm done drinking."

"It was...kinda hot, you know. You wanted me to taste your fingers once you were done."

"These fingers?" She traced them over his lips, and he caught her ring finger between this teeth, slowly sucking on it, and she bit her bottom lip, a chuckle escaping her legs. "I can see why I wanted that."

He grasped her hand and pulled her index finger into his mouth, not breaking eye contact, and she traced her thumb across the curve of his bottom lip. He released her finger, she set her hands on his shoulders and placed her knees on Tara's bed, lowering herself onto his thighs, smiling at him before claiming his mouth softly.

It was different then kissing him before, there was a sweetness there, almost like admiration, and she could feel it in his kiss. She wasn't sure what to make of it, but his lips were so gentle and firm. She could have kissed him like this for forever, and she had a feeling he planned on doing just that by his reluctance to let her break away. She loved that gentle urging he gave, and she complied, turning her head slightly to the left.

He felt her tongue peeking out against her lips, and he pulled back to inhale, not letting her move away, and she cupped his cheek, pulling him back and taking his tongue into her mouth. There was such a softness to his actions—the way he held her hips, the way his tongue glided across her, the pressure he applied to her lips. It was filled to the brim with love, and it devoured her heart and her soul with the soft beauty of his love.

He filled her with so much joy and pleasure, his hands moving across her curves and scars with feather-light pressure, and he moved with her as though their bodies were the same. It was the most tender love making Carol had gotten, and it wasn't at all about pleasure or need. It was about completion, and she wanted all of it—all of him—and he gave himself to her. Pure and bare, he gave himself to her, and Carol fell even more in love with him.

She stroked his hair out of his face, smiling blissfully up at him, and he kissed her once more. She wrapped her legs around his lower back to keep him there still inside of her, despite them both having already finished, wanting to feel this connection and this wholeness for a moment longer.

"I love you." She traced the line of his jaw. "I really do love you."

"You doubted?"

"How much, yeah." She laughed and kissed him.

"Okay...what the fuck is going on in my bedroom?" Tara flipped the overhead light on. "Oh, great, great."

Carol gasped and released him, adjusting her hips so he wasn't inside of her. "Tara."

"Nope, nope, just all the nope." She turned and walked out.

"Tara, wait." She climbed off the bed and found her t-shirt and shorts, following her to the living room. "I am so sorry."

"Just tell me why. _Why_ when your room is right there." She dramatically gestured to Carol's room with her hands. "Yours!"

"I got lost in it. He was being so tender, and it just...flowed."

"Please don't use that word in front of me." She ripped off her blazer and tossed it on the couch. "If I wanted to know what it was like to share a bed with you and Daryl, I would rolled around on your bed. Did you even use a condom?"

She lowered her eyes.

"Oh, my God!" She groaned. "Now I have to throw the whole bed out."

"I'm sorry."

"You should be. I am supportive of you and him, but I have boundaries. I mean, that's normal when you literally own the entire room!" She wanted to scream. "I'm never gonna get that image out of my head. Ugh." She flopped down onto the couch and covered her face with a pillow and whined into it.

"I'll wash your sheets, and I can buy some type of mattress cleaner."

"Just burn it!"

"Tara, he told me he loved me." Carol watched her carefully. "And he does love me."

She lowered the pillow and hugged it to her chest. "Carol, I watched his dick come out of you. I'm not happy right now. I mean, I am—for you. But for me? No."

"Understandable. I will get this all cleaned up, and—do you want us to flip your mattress?"

"Please do."

"I'm going to pee first, but then we are on it."

"You're on the pill still, right?"

"Yes, I'm in love, not stupid." She headed to the bathroom.

Daryl came out of her room about ten minutes later, Tara narrowed her eyes at him, and he was blood red and rigid.

"Was it fun?"

"I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put her on your bed. It's my bad." He wasn't making eye contact.

"Yes, it is your bad. Carol and you will fix this, and I'm ordering dinner. Do you want fried rice, sushi, or do you want go for round two on my bed? I think there's a pillow you two didn't soil."

"I'm not hungry."

"Uh-huh."

Carol joined them. "So, I have clean sheets in the hall closet. Can you get them?"

"I'll get the sheets. You two still reek of sex, so just strip my bed and flip it." Tara stood up. "Thank you for nothing."

"You are grouchy." Carol crossed her arms. "If you and Rosita were on my bed—"

"We never would be."

"Fine." She huffed. "How is she?"

"Awesome." She smiled softly. "She was awake and spoke to me. She...spoke, Carol. Like said hi and other words. She couldn't talk much, but it was enough to make me cry. See, I was gonna come home and cry in bed, but you people were fucking in it."

"Oh, my God!" Carol stomped off towards her bedroom.

Tara smirked. "How did she not see that coming?"

"How is she, though?"

"She's good. She says hi." She met Daryl's eyes. "She also wants to meet you, you know in the correct way. I'll set up a dinner so we can get introduced properly."

He nodded. "I...looked at the picture of him. I have his face."

"And it...made you horny?"

"No. Carol came in, and we started talking about her drunken rantin'. It happened around there. The second time, I just—"

"Wait, wait. You...you had sex twice?" She cringed. "Nope, no, burn it. Burn it all."

He smirked. "I'm kiddin', but you're welcome."

"I am so close to hating you, Dixon."

He laughed and went back to help Carol, Tara cringed again and ordered some food for them, and Carol stuffed the hamper with all of Tara's heavy winter blankets. Daryl told her to fold it since it was clean, but she knew Tara would probably burn it. They warmed up on the blanket, after all. They flipped the mattress, Carol wanted to take a shower before the food came, and Daryl wanted to join her, but it wasn't like his shower. It was small, and there was only one shower head. Plus, Tara might kill him if they "ruined" the shower as well in one day.

"Go wash your hands." Tara flicked through the TV channels.

"Okay, Mom," he grumbled.

"If you see me like that," Tara inhaled and called after him, "use a damn condom next time!"

Dinner was almost nice. Tara told them how Rosita was doing, and Carol told her about the impromptu wedding for Amy and Merle, and she made more comments about them doing it on her bed. Carol was still high on the feeling of Daryl making love to her, and Daryl was turning more and more into a cherry.

"All right. I'm going to the hospital to haggle a nurse into letting me cuddle my girlfriend." Tara hopped up. "If I lose, I'm using my badge to cuddle my girlfriend."

"Hug her for me, okay?" Carol turned the TV off. "I'm sending over an arrangement of fruit for her. I know solids aren't great yet, but it's all soft fruit."

"I'll let her know. Thanks, babe." She grabbed her jacket. "Please stay out of my room."

"Don't worry. I intend to be stroked and poked and delighted in my own bedroom. All night long. In various position and holes." She smiled sweetly. "Tell her I say goodnight."

"I will pay you back for that."

"I know."

She left, Daryl threw out the containers, and Carol joined him in the kitchen with a box of condoms, and he laughed. She told him not to, because there were two in there, and she might save them for another night.

"Why do you want me so bad tonight?" He leaned against the wall, arms loosely folded over his chest, and he smirked at her. "Hmm?"

"Because our sex life has been shit for the past month, and it's fine. Rosita was missing, and Bri was a temporary ward of the state. That's what it was, but I do remember saying we were going to have lots and _lots_ of sex, and we just haven't done that." She sucked air in through her teeth and nodded. "We've had some sex, but not lots and lots, you know?"

He chuckled. "No, we haven't." He crossed over to her and grabbed an ass cheek in both hands, pushing his hips into hers. "I'm looking forward to that _thing_ you wanted me to do."

She narrowed her eyes. "What thing?"

"You'll know it when I do it." He guided her towards her bed, lifting her up and supporting her from underneath.

"Okay, but if you don't tell me, I'm going to do the same to you if I can." She eyed him.

"All right, be my guest." He kicked her bedroom door closed with his foot.

– – –

Bright, white beams of the morning sun weaved through the blinds of Rosita's hospital room, the familiar sound of her monitors and distant outside chatter a comfort. She was slowly accepting this world as real, and if it wasn't then she would linger here as long as possible. It was bright and fresh and lovely, filled to the brim with people who cared about her and held her oh-so gently in the night. She liked this world, and if it wasn't real then she'd come back to after the next downpour.

She rolled over carefully, minding her elbow and found Tara asleep soundly beside her. Her eyes were closed, her shoulder falling and rising in time with her chest, her eyelids still, and she was still wearing her work pants, but she'd changed the top out for a black hoodie with PPD stamped on it. Her hair was messy around her shoulders, and she had dried saliva in the corner of her mouth, and... she was beautiful. Warm and soft. Constant. If this were a dream...then her mind perfectly projected Tara. To know her so well, Rosita had to be—

"Good mor—" The nurse, Hilda, cut off at Rosita pressing a finger to her lip and pointing to Tara. "Oh, my apologies, but you have blood work, missy. And some more tests we need to knock out."

She pleaded silently with a puppy dog look, setting a hand on Tara's arm.

"Oh, you're good." She sighed. "Fine, but girl, you better stop doin' this to me. You know I'm a sucker for this whole scene."

She smiled a thanks then Hilda left, and the moment the door shut, Tara snorted with laughter, eyelids fluttering open and revealing sparkling chocolate orbs. Hmm, almost the color of coffee beans. Perhaps that was why she loved to look into them so.

"Good morning." Rosita tucked hair behind her ear.

"Good morning." She yawned. "I know you don't talk a whole lot lately, but you can talk to her. She loves you—clearly."

"I wanted you to be the first one to hear me speak today." She stroked her cheek, affectionately gazing down at her, and she could see Tara wanted to kiss her. She almost did a couple times out of habit during her visits, but something held her back. Rosita wasn't sure what, but she wouldn't let it come between them.

"Kiss me," Rosita softly asked, her voice still thin.

"Ro, I dunno. I mean—"

"I won't break, Tara. Kiss me, please." She slid her hand down to hold Tara's chin between her thumb and index finger. "I want you to."

"And I know that you won't break and want me to, but... Babe, I have serious morning breath. I ate takeout food last night, and it's probably all funky in there."

Rosita smiled. "Kiss me anyway."

"You sure?"

"I've been in the hospital without my electric toothbrush for a while now, so you should brace yourself, too."

Chuckling, she pushed herself into a sitting position, one hand still supporting her on the thin mattress, the other reaching out to grasp Rosita's cheek. She drank in every inch of Rosita's gorgeous face before letting her eyes shut and kissing her tenderly. And they were both right about the bad breath, but Rosita needed this. She needed to feel her kiss, the tremble in her lips at the emotions this long moment awaited brought, the tip of her tongue pushing out merely out of habit, and the taste of just pure Tara that struck a fire in both her blood and her belly. It was all the same, it was all real, and it was making her heart race with pain and pleasure.

It was real. This was home. She couldn't wake up to boiling hot water or freezing drugged rain. She wouldn't feel the knife tearing into her thigh. She wouldn't hear his groan or grunt. She wouldn't hear the sprinklers or feel that sickeningly drugged rain. She was home, and it was safe—and also very arousing, because her girlfriend's tongue was stroking and teasing and—

"Uh-huh."

They broke off the kiss and found Hilda standing there with an arched brow, a hand on her hip and her head shaking in disappointment.

"Guess you're both up now, and I can take some blood." She smacked her lips. "Damn, you played me."

"Every morning." Tara laughed, and Rosita felt the light ripples of her own laughter in her chest. "How did you know?"

"The heart monitor. It went nuts." Her smile soften to a smile. "It's still cute, so you're off with a warning, but child, tomorrow morning, you're mine."

"Fair enough." She tucked hair behind her ear. "After vitals and blood, can I eat?"

"We're going to try some solids today," Hilda nodded. "You up for that?"

"Yeah, I think so." She nodded and smiled at Tara. "You want to stay for hospital pancakes?"

"Yeah, let me just use the bathroom." She kissed her cheek and paused. "Oh, wait, I brought you a gift."

"You didn't have to." She moistened her lips and watched Tara hide something behind her back. "What is it?"

"I have to be at work while the sun is out, so I broke in this plushie. It smells just like me, and it's soft."

Rosita's heart was pounding again, but not out of arousal—out of fear. Her eyes rounded as Tara pulled the plushie out from behind her back, tears already creeping around the curves of her eyes, and she covered her mouth with her hand at the pink and gray round pig plushie. She was shaking with relief.

"You don't like it?" Tara frowned at her reaction.

"No, I do." She accepted it and held it to her stomach. "It's precious. Thank you."

"All right, give me your arm, please." Hilda offered her hand to the young woman. "You can go now, Tara. She's in good hands. I promise."

"Yeah, just...need a second." She looked over her girlfriend lovingly, Rosita couldn't help smiling that love back. "I'll be right back."

"We'll miss you," Hilda teased.

"You should." Tara scooted off.

Rosita winced briefly at the needle sliding into her arm then smiled down at the pig resting against her belly, and she exhaled. It was real. This was all real and good. It was. It was good. But that type of abuse didn't go away easy, she supposed, but luckily she had a support system. And Tara was the second largest chuck of it. It was only right since Tara had her whole heart.


End file.
